



^?X^^ y^t^v-^x^ 



Til 10 



WORKS 






CHARLES SUMNER 



Venict fortasse aliuil torn pus, dignius nostro, quo, debellatis odiis, 
Veritas triuiuphabit. Hoc mecuru opta, lector, et vale. 

Leibnitz. 



VOL. I. 



BOSTON: 
LEE AND SHEPARD 

1870. 




■ u 



5 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by 

CHARLES SUMNER, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. 



University Press: Welch, Bigelow, & Co.| 



Believe me stall, as I have ever been, 

The steadfast lover of my fellow-men ; 

My weakness, love of holy liberty; 

My crime, the \\i>h that all mankind were free: 

Free, not by blood ; redeemed, but not by crime ; 

Each fetter broken, but in God's good time. 

Whittiee. 



NOTE. 

In this collection the arrangement is strictly chronological. 
Every article will be found according to its date, without ref- 
erence to the subject or occasion, thus showing the succession 
of efforts as they occurred. 



CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 



Page 
Tuf. Tun: GRANDEUR of Nations. An Oration before the Au- 
thorities of the City of Roston, July 4, 1845 5 

Tribute of Friendship: Tim late Joseph Story. Article from 

the Boston Daily Advertiser, September 16, 1845 .... 133 

The Wrong of Slavery. Speech at a Public Meeting in Fnneuil 
Hall, Boston, against the Admission of Texas as a Slave State, 
November 4, 1845 14'J 

Equal Rights in the Lecture-Room. Letter to the Committee 

of the New Bedford Lyceum, November 29, 1845 .... 160 

Prisons and Prison Discipline. Article from the Christian Ex- 
aminer, January, 1846 163 

The Employment of Time. Lecture before the Boston Lyceum, 

delivered in the Federal Street Theatre, February 18, 1846 . . 184 

Biographical Sketch of the late John Pickering. Article 

in the Law Reporter of June, 1846 214 

The Scholar, the Jurist, the Artist, the Philanthropist. 
An Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Harvard Uni- 
versity, at their Anniversary, August 27, 1846 .... 241 

Ahctslavrry Duties <>f the Whig Party. Speech at the Whig 
State Convention of Massachusetts, in Fanenil Sail, Boston, Sep- 
tember 23, 1846 303 

Wrongful Declaration of War against Mexico. Letter to 

Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, Representative in Congress from Bos- 
ton, October 25, 1846 317 

Refusal to be a Candidate for Congress. Notice in the Bos- 
ton Papers, October 31, 1846 330 






VI CONTENTS. 

Page 
Slavery and the Mexican Wab. Speech at a Public Meeting 

in the Tremont Temple, Boston, November 5, 1846 . . . 333 

Invalidity ok Enlistments in the .Massachusetts Regiment 
of Volunteers for the Mexican War. Argument before 
the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, January, 1847 . . . 352 

Withdrawal of American Troops from Mexico. Speech at a 

Public Meeting in Faneuil Hall, Boston, February 4, 1847 . . 374 

White Slavery in the Barbary States. A Lecture before the 

Boston Mercantile Library Association, February 17, 1847 . . 383 

Rival Systems of Prison Discipline. Speech before the Boston 

Prison Discipline Society, at the Tremont Temple, June 18, 1847 . 486 

The late Joseph Lewis Stackpole, Esq. Article in the Boston 

Daily Advertiser, July 23, 1847 533 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 



An Oration before the Authorities of the City 
of Boston, July 4, 1845. 



O, yet a nobler task awaits thy hand, 

(For what can war but endless war still breed?) 

Till truth and right from violence be freed. 

Milton, Sonnet to Fairfax. 



Pax optima rerum 
Quas homini novisse datum est; pax una triumpliis 
Innumeris potior; pax custodire salutem 
Et cives sequare potens. 

Silius Italicus, Punica, Lib. XI. w. 592-595. 

Sed majoris est gloria; ipsa bclla verbo occidere quam homines ferro, 
et acquirere vel obtinere pacem pace, nun bello. — Augustixi Epistola 
cclxii., ad Darium Comitem. 

Certainly, if all who look upon themselves as men, not so much from 
the shape of their bodies as because they are endowed with reason, would 
listen awhile unto Christ's wholesome and peaceable decrees, and not, 
puffed up with arrogance and conceit, rather believe their own opinions 
than his admonitions, the whole world long ago (turning the use of 
iron into milder works) should have lived in most quiet tranquillity, and 
have met together in a firm and indissoluble league of most safe con- 
cord. — Arnobius Afer, Adversus Gentes, Lib. I. c. 6. 

And so for the first time [three hundred years after the Christian era] 
the meek and peaceful Jesus became a God of Battle, and the cross, the 
holy sign of Christian redemption, a banner of bloody strife. This ir- 
reconcilable incongruity between the symbol of universal peace and the 
horrors of war, in my judgment, is conclusive against the miraculous 
or supernatural character of the transaction [the vision of Constantine], 

— I was agreeably surprised to find that Mosheim concurred in these 
sentiments, for which I will readily encounter the charge of Quakerism. 

— Milmax, History of Christianity, Book III. chap. 1 . 

When you see fighting, be peaceable; for a peaceable disposition shuts 
the door of contention. Oppose kindness to pcrverscness ; the sharp 
sword will not cut soft silk. By using sweet words and gentleness you 
may lead an elephant with a hair. — Saadi, The Gulistan, translated by 
Francis Gladwin, Chap. III. Tale 28. 

Si Ton vims disait que tons les chats d'un grand pays se sont assem- 
bles par milliers dans une plaine, et qu'apres avoir miaule tout leur 
saoul, ils se sunt jetes avec fureur les tins sur les autres, et out joue 1 en- 
semble de la dent et de la grifie, que de cette melee il est demeure'de 
part et d'autre aeuf a dix mille chats sur la place, qui out infecte Fair 
a dix lieues de la par leur puanteur, ne diriez-vous pas, " Voila le plus 
abominable ^al>i>nt donl on nit jamais ou'iparler"? Et si les loups 
en faisaient de meme, quels hurlements! quelle boucherie! Et si les una 
on les autres vous disaient qu'ils aiment la r/loire, .... ne ririez-vous 
pas de tout voire cceur de I'mgenuite" de ces pauvres betes '. — La 
Bri viiu;, Les Caractires : Des Jugements. 



I!.' ires disposed to dissent from the maxim, which had of late ■ 
received very general assent, thai the best security for the continuance 

of peace was in be prepared for war. That was a maxim which might 
have been applied to the nations of antiquity, and to society in a com- 
paratively barbarous and uncivilized state Men, when thej adopted 

such a maxim, ami made large preparations in time of peace thai would 
lie sufficient in time of war, were apt to be influenced by the. desire to 
put their efficiency to the tot, that all their great preparations ami the 
result (if their toil ami expense might not he tin-own away. — Haul OF 
ABERDEEN, Hansard's Parliamentary Debates, July 20, 1849. 

Ililhnn para, si pacem ue/is, was a maxim regarded by many as* con- 
taining an incontestable truth. It was one, in hi> opinion, to be received 

with great caution, and admitting of much qualification We 

should best consult the true interests of the country by husbanding our 
resources in a time of peace, and, instead of a lavish expenditure on all 
the means of defence, by placing some trust in the latent ami dormant 
energies of the nation. — Sir Kuiikkt I'kkl, Hansard's Parliamentary 
Debates, March 12, 1850. 

Let us terminate this disastrous System of rival expenditure, and mu- 
tually agree, with no hypocrisy, hut in a manner and under circum- 
stances which can admit of no doubt, — by a reduction of armaments, — 
that peace is really our policy. — Mr. D'lSBAELI, Hansard's Parlia- 
mentary Debates, July 21, 185'.). 

All high titles of honor come hitherto from fighting. Your Ilerzog 
(Duke, Dux) is Leader of Armies ; your Karl (.lad) is Strong Man; 
your Marshal, Cavalry Horseshoer. A Millennium, or Reign of Peace 
and Wisdom, having from of old been prophesied, and becoming now 
daily more and more indubitable, may it not he apprehended that such 

fighting titles will cease to he palatable, and new ami higher need to 
be devised? — Carlyle, Sartor Pesarlus, Book III. chap. 7. 

After the memorable conflict of June, 1848, in which, as Chefde Ba- 
taillon, he [Ary Schefier] had shown a capacity for military conduct not 
less remarked than his cool courage, General Cbangarnier, then com- 
manding the National Guard of Paris, tendered to Sehellir's accept- 
ance the cross of Commandeur. lie replied, "Had this honorable dis- 
tinction been offered to me in my quality of Artist, and as a recognition 
of the merit of my works, I should receive it with deference and sat- 
isfaction. But to carry about mc a decoration reminding me onlj 
of the horrors of civil war is what I cannot consent to do." — Auv 
ScHEFFEB, Life by Mrs. Grate, Appendix. 



Additional examples and illustrations have been introduced into this 
Oration since its publication, but the argument and substance remain the 
same. It was at the time the occasion of considerable controversy, and 
many were disturbed by what Mr. Sumner called his Declaration of War 
against War. This showed itself at the dinner in Faneuil Hall immediately 
after the delivery. There was friendly dissent also, as appears from the 
letters of Judge Story and Mr. Prescott, which will be found in the biogra- 
phies of those eminent persons. A letter from John A. Andrew, afterwards 
the distinguished Governor of Massachusetts, shows the completeness of his 
sympathy. " You will allow me to say, I hope," he writes, " that I have 
read the Oration with a satisfaction only equalled by that with which I 
heard you on the 4th July. And while I thank you a thousand times for 
the choice you made of a topic, as well as for the fidelity and brilliant 
ability which you brought to its illustration, (both, to my mind, defying 
the most carping criticism,) I cannot help expressing also my gratitude to 
Providence, that here, in our city of Boston, one has at last stepped for- 
ward to consecrate to celestial hopes the day — the great day — which 
Americans have at best heretofore held sacred only to memory." 

The Oration was noticed extensively at home and abroad. Two or more 
editions were printed by the City Government, one by the booksellers, 
Messrs. W. D. Ticknor & Co., and several by the American Peace Society, 
which has recently issued another, making a small volume. Another 
edition appeared in London. Portions have been printed and circulated as 
tracts. There was also an abridgment in Philadelphia, edited by Professor 
Charles D. Cleveland, and another in Liverpool, by Mr. Richard Kathbone. 



R A T I X . 



IN accordance with uninterrupted usage, on this Sab- 
bath of the Nation, we have pul aside oui daily 
cares, and seized a respite from the uever-ending toils 
of life, to meel in gladness and congratulation, oiindful 
of the blessings transmitted from the Past, mindful also, 
I trust, of our duties to the Present and the Future. 

All hearts turn first to the Fathers of the Republic, 
Their venerable forms rise before us, in the procession 
of successive iM'iierations. They come from the frozen 
rock « » t* Plymouth, from the wasted hands of Raleigh, 
from the heavenly companionship of Penn, from the 
anxious councils of the Revolution, — from all those 
fields of sacrifice, where, in ohedience to the spirit of 
their age, they sealed their devotion to duty with their 
blood. They Bay to us, their children, " < tease to vaunt 
what you do, and what has heen done for you Learn 
to walk meekly and to think humbly. Cultivate habits 
of self-sacrifice. Never aim at what is not right, per- 
suaded thai without this every possession and all knowl- 
edge will become an evil and a shame. And may these 
words of ours be ever in your minds ! Strive to incri 
the inheritance we have bequeathed to yon, — bearing in 
mind always, that, if we excel you in virtue, such a vie- 



tup: true grandeur of nations. 

tory will be to us a mortification, while defeat will bring 
happiness. In this way you may conquer us. Noth- 
ing is more shameful for a man than a claim to esteem, 
not on his own merits, but on the fame of his ancestors. /■ 
The glory of the fathers is doubtless to their children a 
most precious treasure ; but to enjoy it without trans- 
mission to the next generation, and without addition, is 
the extreme of ignominy. Following these counsels, 
when your days on earth are finished, you will come 
to join us, and we shall receive you as friend receives 
friend ; but if you neglect our words, expect no happy 
greeting from us." 1 

Honor to the memory of our fathers ! May the turf 
lie lightly on their sacred graves ! Not in words only, 
but in deeds also, let us testify our reverence for their 
name, imitating what in them was lofty, pure, and 
good, learning from them to bear hardship and priva- 
tion. May we, who now reap in strength what they 
sowed in weakness, augment the inheritance we have 
received! To this end, wo must not fold our hands in 
slumber, nor abide content with the past. To each 
generation is appointed its peculiar task; nor does the 
heart which responds to the call of duty find rest ex- 
cept in the grave. 

Be ours the task now in the order of Providence east 
upon us. And what is this duty? "What can we do to 
make our coming welcome to our fathers in the skies, 
and draw to our memory hereafter the homage of a 
grateful posterity? How add to the inheritance re- 
ceived? The answer must interest all, particularly on 

1 This i< borrowed almost literally from the words attributed by Plato 
to the Fathers of Athens, in the beautiful funeral discourse of the Me- 
nus. 



THE TKl'i: GRANDEU1 OF NAI I 7 

tin's festival, when we celebrate the Nativity of the Re- 
public. It well becomes the patriot citizen, on this 
anniversary, to consider the national character, and how 
it may be advanced, — as the good man dedicates his 
birthday to meditation on his life, and to resolutions 
of improvement. Avoiding, then, all exultation in the 
abounding prosperity of the land, and in that free- 
dom whose influence is widening to the uttermosl cir- 
cles of the earth, I would turn attention to the char- 
acter of our country, and humbly endeavor to Learn 
what must be done that the Republic may best secure 
tin' welfare of the people committed to its care, — that 
ii may perform its pari in the world's history, — that it 
may fulfil the aspirations of generous hearts,- — and. 
practising that righteousness which exalteth a nation, 
attain to the elevation of True Grandeur. 

"With this aim, and believing that I can in no other 
way so fitly fulfil the trust reposed in me to-day, I pur- 
pose to consider what, in <>i>r age, are tin in',- objects of 
national ambition, — what is truly National Honor, 
National Glory, — what is the teub gbandeuk of 
nations. I would nut depart from the modesty thai 
becomes me, yet I am not without hope that I may do 
something to rescue these terms, now so powerful over 
the minds of men, limn mistaken objects, especially 

from deeds of war, and the extension of empire, that 
they may he applied to works of justice and benefi- 
cence, which are better than war or empire. 

The subject may he novel, mi an occasion like the 
present ; hut it is comprehensive, and of transcendent 
importance. It raises us to the contemplation of things 
not temporary or local, but belonging to all ages and 



8 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

countries, — things lofty as Truth, universal as Hu- 
manity. Nay, more ; it practically concerns the gen- 
eral welfare, not only of our own cherished Repub- 
lic, but of the whole Federation of Nations. It' has 
an urgent interest from transactions in which we are 
now unhappily involved. By an act of unjust legis- 
lation, extending our power over Texas, peace with 
Mexico is endangered, — while, by petulant assertion 
of a disputed claim to a remote territory beyond the 
Rocky Mountains, ancient fires of hostile strife are 
kindled anew on the hearth of our mother country. 
Mexico and England both avow the determination to 
vindicate what is called the National Honor ; and our 
Government calmly contemplates the dread Arbitra- 
ment of War, provided it cannot obtain what is called 
an honorable peace. 

Far from our nation and our age be the sin and 
shame of contests hateful in the sight of God and all 
good men, having their origin in no righteous sentiment, 
no true love of country, no generous thirst for fame, 
"that last infirmity of noble mind," but springing mani- 
festly from an ignorant and ignoble passion for new ter- 
ritory, strengthened, in our case, in a republic whose 
star is Liberty, by unnatural desire to add new links 
in chains destined yet to fall from the limbs of the 
unhappy slave 1 In such contests God has no attribute 
which can join with us. Who believes that the na- 
tional honor would he promoted by a war with Mexico 
or a war with England? What just man would sacri- 
fice a single human life to bring under our rule both 
Texas and Oregon? An ancienl Roman, ignorant of 
Christian truth, touched only by the relation of fellow- 
countryman, and not of fellow-man, said, as he turned 



Jill: TKIi: GRANDEUB OF RATIONS. 9 

aside from a career of Asiatic conquest, thai he would 
rather save the life of a single citizen than win to his 
power all the dominions of Mithridates. 1 

A war with Mexico would be mean and cowardly; 
with England it would he bold al Least, though parrici- 
dal Tin' heart sickens at the murderous attack upon 
an enemy distracted by civil tend, weak at home, impo- 
tent abroad ; hut it recoils in horror from the deadly shock 
between children of a common ancestry, speaking the 
same language, soothed in infancy by the same words 
nl love and tenderness, and hardened into vigorous man- 
hood under the bracing influence of institutions instinct 
with the same vital breath of freedom. The Roman his- 
torian has aptly pictured this unnatural combat. Rarely 
do words of the past so justly describe the present. Co- 
ram acuebat, quod adversus Latinos bellandum <r>>f,/in- 
gua, moribus, armorv/m genere, institutis ante omnia 
mUitaribus congruentes: milites militibus, centv/rioni- 
bus centuriones, tribuni ti'ihmiix com/pares collegcegue, 
iisdem prossidiis, scepe iisdem manipulis permixti fue- 
rant? 

('an there be in our age any peace that is not hon- 
orable, any war that is not dishonorable ? The true 
honor of a nation is conspicuous only in i\>rA> of 
justice and beneficence, securing and advancing hu- 
man happiness. In the clear eye of that Christian 
judgment which must yet prevail, vain are the victo- 
ries of War, infamous its spoils. He is the benefactor, 
and worthy of honor, who carries comfort to wretched- 
ness, dries the tear of sorrow, relieves the unfortu- 
nate, \'vrd> the hungry, clothes the naked, does jus- 
tice, enlightens the ignorant, unfastens the fetters of 

i Plutarch, LucuUtu, Cap. VIII. ^ Livy, Hi-f.. Lib. VIII. c. 6. 

1* 



10 THE TEUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

the slave, and finally, by virtuous genius, in art, lit- 
erature, science, enlivens and exalts the hours of life, 
or, by generous example, inspires a love for God and 
man. This is the Christian hero; this is the man of 
honor in a Christian land. He is no benefactor, nor 
worthy of honor, whatever his worldly renown, whose 
life is absorbed in feats of brute force, who renounces 
the great law of Christian brotherhood, whose vocation 
is blood. Well may old Sir Thomas Browne exclaim, 
" The world does not know its greatest men ! " — for 
thus far it has chiefly honored the violent brood of Bat- 
tle, am nil men springing up from the dragon's teeth 
sown by Hate, and cared little for the truly good men, 
children of Love, guiltless of their country's blood, 
whose steps mi earth are noiseless as an angel's wing. 
It will not be disguised that this standard differs from 
that of the world even in our day. The voice of man 
is yet given to martial praise, and the honors of victory 
are chanted even by the lips of woman. The mother, 
rockinu the infant on her knee, stamps the images of 
War upon his tender mind, at that age more im- 
pressible than Max ; she nurses his slumber with its 
music, pleases his waking hours with its stories, and 
selects tor his playthings the plume and the sword. 
From the child is formed the man; and who can weigh 
the influence of a mother's spirit on the opinions of his 
life? The mind which train- the child is like a hand 
at the end of a long lever; a gentle effort suffices to 
beave the enormous weight of succeeding years. As the 
boy advances to youth, he is fed like Achilles, not on 
honey ami milk only, but mi bears' marrow and lions' 
hearts. He draws the nutriment of his soul from a lit- 
ture whose beautiful lields arc moistened by human 



1 III. TKl i: GBANDE1 R "1 NATIONS. 1 1 

blood. Fain would I offer my tribute to the Father of 
Poetry, standing with harp of immortal melody on the 
misty mountain-top of distant Antiquity, — to those 
stories of courage and sacrifice which emblazon the an- 
nals of Greece and Rome, — to the fulminations of De- 
mosthenes ami the splendors of Tully, — to the sweel 
verse of Virgil and the poetic prose of Livy; fain would 
1 otter my tribute to the new literature, which shot up 
in modern times as a \ igorous foresl from the burnt site 
of ancient woods, — to the passionate sum;' of the Trou- 
badour in France and the Minnesinger in Germany, — 
to the thrilling ballad of Spain and the delicate music 
of the Italian lyre: but from all these has breathed the 
breath of War, that has swept the heart-strings of men 
in all the thronging generations. 

And when the youth become- a man, his country in- 
vites his service in war, and holds before his bewildered 
imagination the prizes of worldly honor. For him the 
pen of the historian and the verse of the poet. His 
soul is taught to swell at the thought that he, too, is a 
soldier, — that his name shall he entered on the list of 
those who have borne arms for their country; and per- 
haps he dream- that he, too, may sleep, like the Great 
Captain of Spain, with a hundred trophies over his 
grave. The law of the land throws its sanction - 
this frenzy. The contagion spreads beyond those sub- 
ject to positive obligation. Peaceful citizens volunteer 
to appear as soldiers, and affect, in dress, arms, and <\>'- 
portment, whal is called the " pride, pomp, and circum- 
stance of glorious war." The ear-piercing fife has to- 
day tilled our streets, and we have come to this church, 
on this National Sabbath, by the thump of drum and 
with the parade of bristling bayonets. 



12 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

It is not strange, then, that the Spirit of War still 
finds a home among us, nor that its honors continue to 
be regarded. All tins may seem to illustrate the bitter 
philosophy of llobbes, declaring that the natural state 
of mankind is War, and to sustain the exulting language 
of t he soldier in our own day, when he wrote, " War is the 
condition of this world. From man to the smallest in- 
sect, all are at strife; and the glory of arms, which can- 
not be obtained without the exercise of honor, fortitude, 
courage, obedience, modesty, and temperance, excites 
the brave man's patriotism, and is a chastening correc- 
tive for the rich man's pride." * This is broad and bold. 
In madder mood, another British general is reported as 
saying, " Why, man, do you know that a grenadier is 
the greatest character in this world," — and after a mo- 
ment's pause, with the added emphasis of an oath, "and, 
I believe, in the next, too." 2 All these spoke in har- 
mony. If one is true, all are true. A French voice has 
struck another note, chanting nothing less than the di- 
vinity of war, hailing it as "divine" in itself, — "di- 
vine"' in its consequences, — "divine" in mysterious glory 
and seductive attraction, — "divine" in the manner of 
its declaration, — "divine" in the results obtained, — 
"divine" in the undefinable force by which its tri- 
umph is determined ; 3 and the whole earth, continually 

imbibing hi 1, is nothing but an immense altar, where 

life is immolated without end, without measure, with- 
out respite. Bui this made is not saved from rejec- 
tion even by the magistral style in which it is deliv- 
ered. 

i Napier, Peninsular War. Book XXIV. ch. 6, Vol. VI. p. 688. 
- Southey, Colloquies on the Progress and Prospects of Society, Coll. VIII., 
Vol. I. p. 211. 
8 Joseph de Mai6tre, 5 P^terabourg, Turn. II. ]>]i. 27, 32 — 35. 



THE TIM'i: GBANDEUB OP NATIONS. J:'- 

Alas! in the existing attitude of nations, the infidel 
philosopher and the rhetorical soldier, to say nothing 
of the giddy general and the French priesl of Mars, find 
too much supporl for a theoiy which degrades human 
nature and insults the goodness of God. It is tine that 
in us are impulses unhappily tending to strife. Pro- 
pensities possessed in common with the beast, it' not 
subordinated to what in man is human, almost divine, 
will break forth in outrage. This is the predominance 
of the animal. Hence wars and fightings, with the 
false glory which crowns such barbarism. Bui the 
true civilization of nations, as of individuals, is deter- 
mined by the extenl to which these evil dispositions are 
restrained. Nor does the teacher ever more truly per- 
form his high office than when, recognizing the suprem- 
acy of the moral and intellectual, he calls upon nations, 
as upon individuals, to declare independence of the bes- 
tial, to abandon practices founded on this part of our 
nature, and in every way to heat down that brutal spirit 
which is the Genius of War. In making this appeal, la- 
will he startled as he learns, that, while the municipal 
law of each christian nation, discarding the Arbitra- 
ment of Force, provides a judicial tribunal for the 
determination of controversies between individuals, In- 
ternational Law expressly establishes the Arbitrament of 
"War for the determination of controversies between 
nations. 

Here, then, in unfolding the True Grandeur of Na- 
tions, we encounter a practice, or custom, sanctioned by 
the Law of Nations, and constituting a pari of that law, 
which exists in defiance of principles such as no indi- 
viduals can disown. If it is wrong and inglorious when 
individuals consent umi "!//■>< to determine their petty 



14 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

controversies by combat, it must be equally wrong and 
inglorious when nations consent and agree to determine 
their vaster controversies by combat. Here is a positive, 
precise, and specific evil, of gigantic proportions, incon- 
sistent with what is truly honorable, making within the 
sphere of its influence all true grandeur impossible, 
which, instead of proceeding from some uncontrollable 
impulse of our nature, is expressly established and organ- 
ized by lata. 

As all citizens are parties to Municipal Law, and re- 
sponsible for its institutions, so are all the Christian 
nations parties to International Law, and responsible for 
its provisions. By recognizing these provisions, nations 
consent and agree beforehand to the Arbitrament of War, 
precisely as citizens, by recognizing Trial by Jury, con- 
sent and agree beforehand to the latter tribunal. As, to 
comprehend the true nature of Trial by Jury, we first 
repair to the Municipal Law by which it is established, 
so, to comprehend the true nature of the Arbitrament 
of War, we must first repair to the Law of Nations. 

Writers of genius and learning have defined this ar- 
bitrament, and laid down the rules by which it is gov- 
erned, constituting a complex code, with innumerable 
subtile provisions regulating the resort to it and the 
manner in which it must be conducted, called the 
Laws of War. In these quarters we catch our first au- 
thentic glimpses of its folly and wickedness. Accord- 
in.'-; to Lord Bacon, whose authority is always great, 
"Wars are no massacres and confusions, but they are 
the highesl Trials of Right, when princes and states, that 
acknowledge no superior upon earth, shall put them- 
selves upon the justice of God for the it, cut inn "J their 



THE TEUB GBANDEUB OF NATIONS. 15 

controrcrsifs by such success as ii shall please him to 
give "ii either side." 1 This definition of the English 
philosopher Is adopted by the American jurist, Chancel- 
lor Kent, iii his Commentaries on American Law. 2 The 
Swiss publicist, Vattel, whose work is accepted as an 
important repository of the Law of Nations, defines 
War as "that state in which a nation prosecutes its 
right by force?* Tn this he very nearly follows the 
eminent Dutch authority, Bynkershoek, who says, "Bel- 
lum est eorum, qui sure potestatis sunt, juris sui pcr- 
sequendi ergo, concertatio per vim vel dolum." 4 Mr. 
"Whewell, who has done so much to illustrate philoso- 
phy in all its departments, says, in his recent work on 
the Elements of Morality and Polity, " Though war is 
appealed to, because there is no other ULTIMATE tuibu- 
NAL to which states can have recourse, it is appealed to 
for justice" 5 And in our country, Dr. Lieber says, in 
a work of learning and sagacious thought, that war is 
undertaken "in order to obtain right," 6 — a definition 
which hardly differs in form from those of Vattel and 
Bynkershoek. 

In accordance with these texts, I would now define 
the evil which I arraign. War is a public armed contest 
between nations, wnder the sanction of International Law, 
to < stablish justice between them : as, for instance, to de- 
termine a disputed boundary, the title to territory, or a 
claim for damages. 

This definition is confined to contests between nations. 

1 Observations upon a Libel, etc., Works, VoL III. p. 40. 

8 Lecture HI.. Vol. I. p. 45. 

8 Book III. ch. 1, sec. 1. 

* Quest .Tur. Tub.. Lib. I. cap. 1. 

« Book VI. ch. 2. art 1146. 

« Political Ethics, Book VII. sec. 19, Vol. II. p. 643. 



1G THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

It is restricted to International War, carefully excluding 
tlic question, often agitated, concerning the right of 
revolution, and that other question, on which friends 
of peace sometimes differ, the right of personal self- 
defence. It does not in any way throw doubt on the 
employment of force in the administration of justice 
or the conservation of domestic quiet. 

It is true that the term defensive is always applied 
to wars in our day. And it is creditable to the moral 
sense that nations are constrained to allege this seem- 
ing excuse, although its absurdity is apparent in the 
equal pretensions of the two belligerents, each claim- 
ing to act on the defensive. It is unreasonable to sup- 
pose that war can arise in the present age, under the 
sanctions of International Law, except to determine an 
asserted right. Whatever its character in periods of 
barbarism, or when invoked to repel an incursion of 
n »1 »1 >ers or pirates, " enemies of the human race," war 
becomes in our day, among all the nut ion* parties to ex- 
isting International Law, simply a mode of litigation, 
or of deciding a lis pendens. It is a mere trial of 
right, an appeal for justice to force. The wars now 
lowering from Mexico and England are of this char- 
acter. On the one side, we assert a title to Texas, 
which is disputed; on the other, we assert a title to 
Oregon, which is disputed. Only according to "mar- 
tial logic," or the "Hash language" of a dishonest 
patriotism, can the Ordeal by Battle be regarded in 
these causes, on either side, as Defensive War. Nor 
did the threatened war with Prance in 1834 prorn- 
ise to assume any differenl character. Its professed 
objeel was to obtain the payment of five million dol- 
lars, — in other words, to determine by this Ultimate 



THE TRUE GBANDEUB OF NATIONS. 17 

TribuncA a simple question of justice. And going back 
still farther in our history, the avowed purpose of the 
war against Great Britain in L812 was to obtain from 
the latter power an abandonment of the claim to search 
American vessels. Unrighteous as was this claim, it 
is plain that war here was invoked only as a Trial of 
Right. 

It forms no part of my purpose to consider individ- 
ual wars in the past, except so far as necessary by way 
of example. My aim is higher. I wish to expose an 
irrational, cruel, and impious custom, sanctioned by the 
Law of Nations. <>n this account I resort to that 
supreme law for the definition on which 1 plant my- 
self in the effort I now make. 

After considering, in succession, first, the character 
of war, secondly, the miseries it produces, and, thirdly, 
its utter and pitiful insufficiency, as a mode of de- 
termining justice, we shall be able to decide, strictly 
and logically, whether it must not be ranked as crime, 
from which no true honor can spring to individuals or 
nations. To appreciate this evil, and the necessity for 
it- overthrow, it will be our duty, fourthly, to consider 
in succession the various prejudices by which it is sus- 
tained, ending with that prejudice, so gigantic and all- 
embracing, at whose command uncounted sum- are 
madly diverted from purposes of peace to preparations 
for war. The whole subject is infinitely practical, 
while the concluding division shows how the public 
treasury may be relieved, and new mean cured for 
human advancement. 



18 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 



First, as to the essential character and root of war, 
or that part of our nature whence it proceeds. Listen 
to the voice from the ancient poet of Boeotian Ascra : — 

" This is the law for mortals, ordained by the Ruler of Heaven: 
Fishes and beasts ami birds of the air devour each other; 
.li STICE dwells not among them: only to jian lias he given 
Justice the Highest and Best." 1 

These words of old Hesiod exhibit the distinction be- 
tween man and beast; but this very distinction be- 
longs to the present discussion. The idea rises to the 
mind at once, that war is a resort to brute force, where 
nations strive to overpower each other. Eeason, and 
the divine part of our nature, where alone we differ 
from the beast, where alone we approach the Divinity, 
where alone are the elements of that justice which is 
the professed object of war, arejiudely dethroned. For 
the time men adopt the nature of beasts, emulating 
their ferocity, like them rejoicing in blood, and with 
lion's paw clutching an asserted right. Though in more 
recent days this character is somewhat disguised by 
the skill and knowledge employed, war is still the same, 
only more destructive from the genius and intellect 
which have become its servants. The primitive poets, 
in tin- unconscious simplicity of the world's childhood, 
make this boldly apparent. The heroes of Homer are 
likened to animals in ungovernable fury, or to things 
devoid of reason or affection. Menelaus presses his 

1 Hesiod, Work- and Days, w. 276-279. Cicero also says, " Neque ulla 
re longiue ab'sumus a natura ferarum, in quibus inesse fortitudinem ssepe 
dicimus, at in equis, in leonibus; justitiam, sequitatem, bonitatem non 
dicimus." — De Offic, Lib. I. cap. 10. 



Tin: TRUE GRANDS B OF N \l I L9 

way through the crowd "like a wild beast." Sarpedon 
is aroused against the Argives, "as a lion again&l the 
crooked-horned oxen," and afterwards rushes forward 
"like a lion nurtured on the mountains, for a long 
time famished for want of flesh, but whose com 
impels him to attack even the well-guarded sheep- 
fold." In one and tin- same passage, the -rent Tela- 
monian Ajax is "wild beast," "tawny lion," and "dull 
ass"; and all the Greek chiefs, the flower of the camp, 
are ranged about Diomed, "like raw-eating linns, or wild- 
boars, whose strength is irresistible." Even Sector, the 
model hero, with all the virtues "l' war, is praised as 
"tamer of horses"; and one of his renowned feata in 
battle, indicating brute strength only, is where he takes 
up and hurls a stone which two of our strongest men 
could not easily lift into a wagon; and he drives over 
dead bodies and shields, while the axle is defiled by 
gore, and the guard about the seat is sprinkled from the 
horses' hoofs and the tires of tin' wheels ; a ami in that 
most admired ] massage of ancient literature, before re- 
turning his child, the young Astyanax, to the arms of 
tin- wife he is about to leave, this hero of war invokes 
the gods for a single blessing on the boy- head,— ° thai 
he may excel his father, and bring home bloody spoils, 
his enemy being slain, and so make glad the heart "/'his 
mother!" 

Prom early fields of modern literature, as from those 
of antiquity, might be gathered similar illustrations, 
showing the unconscious degradation of the soldier, in 
vain pursuit of justice, renouncing the human character, 

i Little better than Trojan Hector was the " gr ranging over 

the field and exulting in the blood of the enemy, which defiled hi- -word- 
arm to the elbow. — Million, E?-ai sur la Vie du Grand Condi, p. 60. 



20 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

to assume that of brute. Bayard, the exemplar of chiv- 
alry, with a name always on the lips of its votaries, 
was described by the qualities of beasts, being, accord- 
ing to his admirers, ram in attack, wild-hoar in defence, 
and wolf in flight. Henry the Fifth, as represented by 
our own Shakespeare, in the spirit-stirring appeal to his 
troops exclaims, — 

'■• When the blast of war blows in our ears, 
Then imitate the action of the tiger." 

This is plain and frank, revealing the true character of 
war. 

I need not dwell on the moral debasement that must 
ensue. Passions, like so many bloodhounds, are un- 
leashed and suffered to rage. Crimes filling our pris- 
ons stalk abroad in the soldier's garb, unwhipped of 
justice. Murder, robbery, rape, arson, are the sports 
of this fiendish Saturnalia, when 

" The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, 
And the fleshed soldier, rough and hard of heart, 
In liberty of bloody hand shall range 
With conscience wide as hell." 

By a bold, but truthful touch, Shakespeare thus pic- 
tures the foul disfigurement which war produces in man, 
whose native capacities he describes in those beautiful 
words:" Hownoblein reason! how infinite in faculties ! 
in form and moving how express and admirable! in ac- 
tion how like an angel '. in apprehension how like a 
god!" Ami yel bhis uobility of reason, this infinitude 
of faculties, this marv< 1 of form and motion, this nature 
so angelic, so godlike, are all, under the transforming 
power of War, Lost in the action of the beast, or the 
license of the fleshed soldier with bloody hand and 
conscience wide as hell. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 21 



II. 



The immediate effect of war is to sever all relations 
of friendship and commerce between the belligerent na- 
tions, and every individual thereof, impressing upon each 
citizen or subjecl the character of runny. Imagine this 
instant change between England and the United States. 
The innumerable ships of the two countries, the white 
doves of commerce, Inarm- the olive of peart-, are 
driven from the sea, or turned from peaceful purposes 
to be ministers of destruction; the threads of social 
and business intercourse, so cart-fully woven into a 
thick web, are suddenly snapped asunder; friend can 
no longer communicate with friend; the twenty thou- 
sand letters speeded each fortnight from this port alone 
are arrested, and the human affections, of which they 
are the precious expression, seek in vain for utterance. 
Tell me, you with friends and kindred abroad, or you 
bound to other lands only by relations of commerce, are 
yon ready for this rude separation? 

This is little compared with what must follow. It is 
but the first portentous shadow of disastrous eclipse, 
twilight usher of thick darkness, covering the whole 
heavens with a pall, broken only by the lightnings of 
battle and sie 

Such honors redden the historic page, while, to the 
scandal of humanity, they never want historians with 
feelings kindred to those by which they arc inspired. 
The demon that draws the sword also guides the pen 
The favorite chronicler of modem Europe, Froissart, dis- 
covers his sympathies in his Prologue, where, with 



22 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

something of apostleship, he announces his purpose, 
"that the honorable enterprises and noble adventures 
and feats of arms which happened in the wars of France 
and England be notably registered and put in perpetual 
memory," and then proceeds to bestow his equal admi- 
ration upon bravery and cunning, upon the courtesy 
which pardoned as upon the rage which caused the flow 
of blood in torrents, dwelling with especial delight on 
" beautiful incursions, beautiful rescues, beautiful feats 
of arms, and beautiful prowesses " ; and wantoning in 
pictures of cities assaulted, " which, being soon gained 
by force, were robbed, and men and women and children 
put to the sword without mercy, while the churches were 
burnt and violated." 1 This was in a barbarous age. 
But popular writers in our own day, dazzled by false 
ideas of greatness, at which reason and humanity 
blush, do not hesitate to dwell on similar scenes even 
with rapture and eulogy. The humane soul of Wilber- 
force, which sighed that England's "bloody laws sent 
many unprepared into another world," could hail the 
slaughter of Waterloo, by which thousands were hurried 
into eternity on the Sabbath he held so holy, as a 
"splendid victory." 2 

My presenl purpose is less to judge the historian than 
to expose the horrors on horrors which he applauds. 
At Tarragona, above six thousand human beings, almost 
all defenceless, men and women, gray hairs and infant 
innocence, attractive youth and wrinkled age were 
butchered by the Infuriate troops in one night, and the 
morning sun rose upon a city whose streets and houses 

1 Froissart, Les Chroniques, Ch. 177, 179, Collection do Buchon, Tom. II. 
pp. 87, 92. 

2 Life of William Wilberforce, by his Sons, Ch. 30, Vol. IV. pp. 256, 261. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 

were inundated with blood : and yel this is called a 
"glorious exploit." ' Bere was a conquesl by the 
French. At a later day, Ciudad Rodrigo was stormed by 
the British, when, in the license of victory, there ensued 
a savage scene of plunder and violence, while shunts 
and screams on all sides mingled fearfully with the 
groans of the wounded. Churches were desecrated, eel- 
Lars of wine and spirits were pillaged, fire was wantonly 
applied to the city, and brutal intoxication Bpread in 
every direction. Only when the drunken dropped from 
as, or t'-ll asleep, was any degree of order restored : 
and yet the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo is pronounced 
"one of the most brilliant exploits of the British army." 2 
This "beautiful feat of arms" was followed by the 
storming of Badajoz, where the same scene-, were en- 
acted again, with accumulated at rocil Les. The story shall 
be told in the words of a partial historian, who himself 
saw what he eloquently describes. " Shameless rapacity, 
brutal intemperance, savage Lust, cruelty, and murder, 
shrieks and piteous Lamentations, groans, shouts, impre- 
cations, the hissing of fires bursting from the houses, the 
crashing of doors and windows, and the reports of mus- 
kets used in violence, resounded for two day- and nights 
in the streets of Badajoz. On the third, when the city 
was sacked, when the soldiers were exhausted by their 
own excesses, the tumult rather subsided than was 
quelled. The wounded men were then looked to, the 
dead disposed of." 3 All this is in the nature of con 
sion, fox the historian is a partisan of battle. 

The siime terrible war affords another instant 
atrocities at a siege crying to Heaven. For weeks be- 

i Alison, Hist, of Europe, Ch. 61, Vol. VIII. p. 237. 

> Ibid., Ch. 04, VoL VIII. p. 482. 

a Napier, Hist Peninsular War, Hook XVI. ch. 5, Vol. IV. p. 431. 



24 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

fore the surrender of Saragossa, the deaths daily were 
from four to five hundred ; and as the living could not 
bury the increasing mass, thousands of carcasses, scat- 
tered in streets and court-yards, or piled in heaps at the 
doors of churches, were left to dissolve in their own 
corruption, or be licked up by the flames of burning 
houses. The city was shaken to its foundations by six- 
teen thousand shells, and the explosion of forty-five 
thousand pounds of powder in the mines, — while the 
bones of forty thousand victims, of every age and both 
sexes, bore dreadful testimony to the unutterable cruelty 
of War. ] 

These might seem pictures from the life of Alaric, 
who led the Goths to Eome, or of Attila, general of 
the Huns, called the Scourge of God, and who boasted 
that the grass did not grow where his horse had set 
his foot ; but no ! they belong to our own times. They 
are portions of the wonderful, but wicked, career of 
him who stands forth the foremost representative of 
worldly grandeur. The heart aches, as we follow him 
and his marshals from field to field of Satanic glory, 2 
finding everywhere, from Spain to Russia, the same 
carnival of woe. The picture is various, yet the same. 
Suffering, wounds, and death, in every form, fill the 
terrible canvas. Wha1 scene more dismal than that 
of Albuera, with its horrid piles of corpses, while all 
night the rain pours down, and river, hill, and forest, 

i Napier, Book V. ch. 3, V. 1. II. p. 46. 

2 A living poet of Italy, who will 1m- placed by his prose among the great 
names of his country's literature, in n remarkable ode which he has tin-own 
cm the urn of Napoleon invite- posterity to judge whether his career of 
battle was True Glory. 

•• I'n vera gloria V Ai p 
L' ardua sentenza." — Manzdni, II Cinque Maggio. 
When men learn to appreciate moral grandeur, the easy sentence will be 
rendered. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 25 

on each Bide, resound with the cries and groans of the 
dying? 1 Whal scene more awfully monumental than 
Salamanca, where, Long after the great battle, the 
ground, strewn with fragments of casques and cui- 
rasses, was still white with the skeletons of those who 
fell? 2 What catalogue of horrors more complete than 
the Russian campaign ." At every step is war, and 
this is enough: soldiers Mack with powder; bayonets 
bent with the violence of the encounter; the earth 
ploughed with cannon-shot ; trees torn and mutilated ; 
the dead and dying; wounds and agony; fields cov- 
ered with broken carriages, outstretched horses, and 
mangled bodies; while disease, sad attendant on mili- 
tary suffering, sweeps thousands from the great hos- 
pitals, and the multitude of amputated limbs, which 
there is no time to destroy, accumulate in bloody heaps, 
filling the air with corruption. What tongue, what pen, 
can describe the bloody havoc at Borodino, where, 
between rise and set of a single sun, one hum lied 
thousand of our fellow-men, equalling in number the 
whole population of this city, sank to earth, dead or 
wounded? 8 Fifty days after the battle, no less than 
thirty thousand are found stretched where their 
convulsions ended, and the whole plain is strewn with 
half-buried carcasses of men ami horses, intermingled 

with garments dyed in hi 1, ami bones gnawed by 

dogs and vultures. 4 Who can follow the French army 
in dismal retreat, avoiding the spear of the pursuing 
Cossack only to sink beneath the sharper frost and ice, 

i Napier, Book MI. ch. 7. Vol. III. p. 543. 
2 Alison, Ch. 64, Vol. VIII. p 
s Il.i.l., Ch. 67, Vol. VIII. p. 671. 

< Ibid ■ _'ur, Histde Na] IX. oh. 7, 

Tom. II. [). 103. Labanme, ReL tie laCampagne do Uusmu, Liv. \ 11. 

VOL. I. 2 



26 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

in a temperature below zero, on foot, without shelter for 
the body, famishing on horse-flesh and a miserable com- 
pound of rye and snow-water ? With a fresh array, the 
war is upheld against new forces under the walls of 
Dresden ; and as the Emperor rides over the field of 
battle — after indulging the night before in royal 
supper with the Saxon king — he sees ghastly new- 
made graves, with hands and arms projecting, stark 
and stiff, above the ground ; and shortly afterwards, 
when shelter is needed for the troops, the order to 
occupy the Hospitals for the Insane is given, with the 
words, " Turn out the mad." 1 

Here I might close this scene of blood. But there 
is one other picture of the atrocious, though natural, 
consequences of war, occurring almost within our own 
day, that I would not omit. Let me bring to your 
mind Genoa, called the Superb, City of Palaces, dear 
to the memory of American childhood as the birth- 
place of Christopher Columbus, and one of the spots 
first enlightened by the morning beams of civilization, 
whose merchants were princes, and whose rich argosies, 
in those early days, introduced to Europe the choicest 
products of the East, the linen of Egypt, the spices of 
Arabi;i, and l lie silks of Samarcand. She still sits in 
queenly pride, as she sat thjen, — her mural crown stud- 
ded with towers, — her churches rich with marble floors 
and raresl pictures, her palaces of ancient doges and 
admirals yel spared 03 the band of Time, — her close 
streets thronged by a hundred thousand inhabitants, 
— at the foot of the Apennines, ;is they approach 
the blue and tideless waters of the Mediterranean Sea, 

1 Alison, Oh. 72, Vol. IX. pp. 469, 553. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. L'7 

— leaning hei back againsl theii strong mountain-sides, 
overshadowed by the foliage of the fig-tree and the 
olive, while the orange and the lemon with pleasant 
perfume scent the air whore reigns perpetual spring. 
Who can contemplate such a city wit In ait delighl '. Who 
can listen to the story of her sorrows without a pang? 

At the opening of the present century, the armies of 
the French Republic, after dominating over Italy, were 
driven from their conquests, and compelled, with 
shrunken forces, to find shelter under Massena, within 
the walls of Genoa. Various efforts were made by the 
Austrian general, aided by bombardment from the Brit- 
ish fleet, to force the strong defences by assault. At 
length the city was invested by a stricl blockade. All 
communication with the country was cut oil', while the 
harbor was closed by the ever-wakeful British watch- 
dogs of war. Beside- the French troops, within the 
beleaguered and unfortunate city are the peaceful, un- 
offending inhabitants. Provisions soon become scarce ; 
scarcity sharpens into want, till fell Famine, bringing 
blindness and madness in her train, rages like an Erin- 
nys. Picture to yourselves this large population, not 
pouring out their lives in the exulting rush of battle. 
but wasting at noonday, daughter by the side of moth- 
er, husband by the side of wife. When grain and 
rice fail, flaxseed, millet, cocoa, and almonds are ground 
by hand-mills into flour, and even bran, baked with 
honey, is eaten, less to satisfy than to deaden hun 
Before the last extremities, a pound of horse-flesh is 
sold for thirty-two cents, a pound of bran for thirty 
cents, a pound of flour for one dollar and seventy-five 
cents. A single bean is soon sold for two cents, and 
a biscuit of three ounces for two dollars and a quarter, 



28 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

till finally none can be had at any price. The wretch- 
ed soldiers, after devouring the horses, are reduced to 
the degradation of feeding on dogs, cats, rats, and 
worms, which are eagerly hunted in cellars and 
sewers. " Happy were now," exclaims an Italian 
historian, "not those who lived, but those who died!" 
The day is dreary from hunger, — the night more 
dreary still, from hunger with delirious fancies. They 
now turn to herbs, — dock, sorrel, mallows, wild 
succory. People of every condition, with women of 
noble birth and beauty, seek upon the slope of the 
mountain within the defences those aliments which 
Nature designed solely for beasts. Scanty vegetables, 
with a scrap of cheese, are all that can be afforded to 
the sick and wounded, those sacred stipendiaries of 
human charity. In the last anguish of despair, men 
and women fill the air with groans and shrieks, some 
in spasms, convulsions, and contortions, yielding their 
expiring breath on the unpitying stones of the street, — 
alas! not more unpitying than man. Children, whom 
a dead mother's arms had ceased to protect, orphans 
of an hour, with piercing cries, supplicate in vain 
the compassion of the passing stranger: none pity or 
aid. The sweet fountains of sympathy are all closed 
by the selfishness of individual distress. In the gen- 
eral agony, some precipitate themselves into the sea, 
while (he more impetuous rush from the gates, and 
impale their bodies on the Austrian bayonets. Oth- 
ers still are driven to devour their shoes and the 
leather of their pouches ; and the horror of human flesh 
so far abates, thai numbers feed like cannibals on the 
corpses aboul them. 1 

* This account is drawn from the animated sketches of Botta (Storia 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 29 

At this stage the French general capitulated, claiming 
and receiving what are called "the honors of war," — 
but not before twenty thousand innocent persons, old 
and young, women and children, having no part or in- 
terest in the contest, had died the most horrible of 
deaths. The Austrian flag floated over captured Genoa 
but a brief span of time; for Bonaparte had already 
descended like an eagle from the Alps, and in nine days 
afterwards, on the plains of Marengo, shattered the 
Austrian empire in Italy. 

But wasted lands, famished cities, and slaughtered 
armies are not all that is contained in " the purple tes- 
tament of bleeding war." Every soldier is connected 
with others, as all of you, by dear tics of kindred, Love, 
and friendship. He has been sternly summoned from 
the embrace of family. To him there is perhaps an 
aged mother, who fondly hoped to lean her bend- 
ing years on his more youthful form; perhaps a wife, 
whose life is jusl entwined inseparably with his, now 
condemned to wasting despair; perhaps sisters, brothers. 
As he falls on the field of war, must not all these rush 
with his blood? But who can measure the distress that 

d' Italia dal 1789 al 1814, Tom. III. Lib. 19), Alison (History of Europe, 
Vol. IV. ch. 80), and Arnold (Modern History, Lect. I\. . The humanity 
of the last i- particularly aroused to condemn this most atrocious murder of 
innocent people, and, as a sufficient remedy, 1; tion of 

the Laws of War, permitting non-combatants to withdraw from a block- 
aded town ! In thi> way, indeed, they may be spared a languishing death by 
starvation; but they must desert firesides, pursuits, all that makes life dear, 
and become homeless exiles, — a fate little better than the former. It is 
Btrange that Arnold's pure soul and clear judgment did not recognize the 
truth, that the whole custom of war i- unrighteous and unlawful, and that 
the horrors of this tural consequence. Laws of w 

in what is lawless! rules of wrong! There can be only one Law of War, — 
that is, the great law which pronounces it unwise, unjust, and unchristian. 



30 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

radiates as from a bloody sun, penetrating innumerable 
homes? Who can give the gauge and dimensions of 
this infinite sorrow ? Tell me, ye who feel the bitter- 
ness of parting with dear friends and kindred, whom you 
watch tenderly till the last golden sands are run out and 
the great hour-glass is turned, what is the measure of 
your anguish i Your friend departs, soothed by kind- 
ness and in the arms of Love : the soldier gasps out his 
life with no friend near, while the scowl of Hate dark- 
ens all that lie beholds, darkens his own departing soul. 
Who can forget the anguish that fills the bosom and 
crazes the brain of Lenore, in the matchless ballad of 
Burger, when seeking in vain among returning squad- 
rons for her lover left dead on Prague's ensanguined 
plain ? But every field of blood has many Lenores. All 
war is full of desolate homes, as is vividly pictured by 
a master poet of antiquity, whose verse is an argument. 

" But through the bounds of Grecia's land, 

Who sent her sons for Troy to part, 

See mourning, with much suffering heart, 

On each man's threshold stand, 

On eacli sad hearth in Grecia's land. 

Well may her soul with grief be rent; 

She well remembers win mi she sent, 

She sees them not return : 

Instead of men, to each man's home 

Urns and ashes only come, 

And the armor which they wore, — 

Sad relics to their native shore. 

For Mars, the batterer of the lifeless clay, 

Who sells (nr gold the slain. 

And holds the scale, in baltle's doubtful day, 

Mgh balanced o'er the plain. 

From Ilium's walls for men returns 

Ashes and sepulchral urns, — 

Ashes wet with man} a tear, 

Sad relics of the fiery bier. 

Round th'' full urns the genera] groan 

Goes, as each their kindred own: 



Till: TRUE GRAKDEUB OF NATIONS. 31 

One they moan in battle rtr 
And one that "mid the armed throng 
Il<- sunk in glory's slaughtering tide, 
And for another's consort died. 

Others they mourn whose monuments stand 
By Ilium's walls on foreign strand; 
they fell in beauty's bloom, 
There they lie in hated tomb, 
Sunk beneath the massy mound. 
In eternal chambers bound." l 



III. 



But all these miseries are to no purpose. \Var is 
utterly ineffectual to secure or advance its professed 
object. The wretchedness it entails contributes to no 
end, helps to establish no right, and therefore in no re- 
spect determines justice between the contending nations. 

The fruitlessness and vanity of war appear in the 
great conflicts by which the world has been lacerated. 
After long struggle, where each nation inflicts and re- 
ceives incalculable injury, peace is gladly obtained on 
the basis of the condition before the war, knows as the 
status ante hJlnm. I cannot illustrate this futility bet- 
ter than by the familiar example — humiliating to both 
countries — of our last war with Great Britain, where 
the professed object was to obtain a renunciation of 
the British claim, so defiantly asserted, to impress our 
seamen. To overturn this injustice the Arbitrament 
of War was invoked, and for nearly three years the 
whole country was under its terrible ban. Ameri- 
can commerce was driven from the seas; the ce- 

1 Agamemnon of .Eschylus: Chorus. This is from the beautiful transla- 
tion by John Symmons. 



32 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

sources of the land were drained by taxation ; villages 
on the Canadian frontier were laid in ashes; the me- 
tropolis of the Republic was captured ; while distress 
was everywhere within our borders. "Weary at last 
with this rude trial, the National Government appointed 
commissioners to treat for peace, with these specific in- 
structions : " Your first duty will be to conclude a peace 
with Great Britain ; and you are authorized to do it, in 
case you obtain a satisfactory stipulation against im- 
pressment, one which shall secure under our flag protec- 
tion to the crew If this encroachment of Great 

Britain is not provided against, the United States have 
appealed to arms in vain." 1 Afterwards, finding small 
chance of extorting from Great Britain a relinquishment 
of the unrighteous claim, and foreseeing from the invet- 
erate prosecution of the war only an accumulation of 
calamities, the National Government directed the nego- 
tiators, in concluding a treaty, to "omit any stipulation 
on the subject of impressment." 2 These instructions were 
obeyed, and the treaty that restored to us once more 
the blessings of peace, so rashly cast away, but now 
hailed with intoxication of joy, contained no allusion 
to impressment, nor did it provide for the surrender 
of a single American sailor detained in the British 
navy. Thus, by the confession of our own Govern- 
ment, "the United States had appealed In arms in 
vain." 3 These important words are not mine; they 
are words of the count rv. 

1 Mr. Monroe to Commissioners April 1", 1813: American State Papers, 
Vol. VIII. pp. 677,678. 

2 Mr. Monroe to C mmissioners, June 27, 1814 : Ibid., Vol. VIII. p. 093. 
'•'■ Mr. Jefferson, in i 'e than on.' letter, declares the peace an armistice 

only, "because no security is provided against the impressment of our 
er to Crawford, Feb. 11, 1815; to Lafayette, Feb. 14, 1815: 
Works, Vol. VI. pp. 420, 427. 



THE TlM'i: i;i;\M'i;[ 1: OF NATIONS. 33 

All this is tlif natural result of an appeal 1" war for 
the determination of justice. Justice implies the exer- 
cise of the judgment. Now war not only supersedes 

the judgment, but delivers over the pending question to 
superiority of force, or to chance. 

Superior force may end in conquest; this is the nat- 
ural consequence; but it cannot adjudicate any right. 
We expose the absurdity of its arbitrament, when, by a 
familiar phrase of sarcasm, we deride the right <>/ tin- 
strongest, — excluding, of course, all idea of right, ex- 
cept that of the lion as he springs upon a weaker beast, 
of the wolf as he tears in pieces the lamb, of the vul- 
ture as he devours the dove. The grossest spirits must 
admit that this is not justice. 

But the battle is not always to the strong. Superior- 
ity of force is often checked by the proverbial contin- 
gencies of war. Especially are such contingencies re- 
vealed in rankest absurdity, where nations, as is the 
acknowledged custom, without regard to their respective 
forces, whether weaker or stronger, voluntarily appeal 
to this mad umpirage. "Who beforehand can measure 
the currents of the heady fight? In common language, 
we confess the "chances" of battle ; and soldiers devoted 
to this harsh vocation yet call it a "game." The (Ireat 
Captain of our age, who seemed to drag victory at his 
chariot-wheels, in a formal address to his officers, on 
entering Russia, says, "In war, fortune has an equal 
share with ability in success." 1 The famous victory of 
Marengo, accident of an accident, wrested unexpectedly 
at close of day from a foe at an earlier hour sun i 
ful, taught him the uncertainty of war. Afterwards, 
in bitterness of spirit, when his immense forces were 

l Alison, Ch. 67, Vol. VIII. p. 815. 
2* C 



34 THE TRUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 

shivered, and his triumphant eagles driven back with 
broken wing, he exclaimed, in that remarkable con- 
versation recorded by his secretary, Fain, — " Well, this 
is War ! High in the morning, — low enough at night ! 
From a triumph to a fall is often but a step." 1 The 
same sentiment is repeated by the military historian of 
the Peninsular campaigns, when he says, " Fortune al- 
ways asserts her supremacy in war; and often from 
a slight mistake such disastrous consequences flow, 
that, in every age and every nation, the uncertainty 
of anus has been proverbial." 2 And again, in another 
place, considering the conduct of Wellington, the same 
military historian, who is an unquestionable authority, 
confesses, "A few hours' delay, an accident, a turn of 
fortune, and he would have been foiled. Ay ! but this 
is War, a/irags dangerous cud uncertain, an ever-rolling 
wheel, and armed with scythes." 3 And will intelligent 
man look for justice to an ever-rolling wheel armed 
with scythes ? 

chance is written on every battle-field. Discerned 
Less in the conflict of large masses than in that of in- 
dividuals, it is equally present in both. How capri- 
ciously the wheel turned when the fortunes of Koine 
were staked on the combat hetween the Horatii and 
Curiatii ! — and who, at one time, augured that the 
single Eoratius, with two slain brothers on the field, 
would overpower the three living enemies? But this 
is not alone. In all the combats of history, involving 
the fate of individuals ot nations, we learn to revolt at 
the frenzy which carries questions of property, freedom, 
or Life to a judgmenl so uncertain and senseless. The 
humorous poel fitly exposes its hazards, when he says, — 

i Alison, Ch. 72, Vol. IX. p. 497. 

a Napier, Book WIY. ch. 6, Vol. VI. p. 687. 

« [bid., Book W l. oh. 7, Vol. IV. p. 476. 



THE 1 1: i i : GB \m>i:u: 0* v\i i 36 

" thai :i turnstile ia more certain 
Than, in event- of war, Dame Fortune." * 

During the early modern centuries, and especially in 
the moral night of the I »ark Ages, the practice prevailed 
extensively throughout Europe of invoking this adju- 
dication for controversies, whether of individuals ox 
communities. I do not dwell on the custom of Private 
War, though it aptly illustrates the subject, stopping 
merely to echo that joy which, in a time of igno- 
rance, before this arbitramenl yielded gradually to the 
ordinances of monarchs and an advancing civiliza- 
tion, hailed its temporary suspension as The Truce of 
God. But this beautiful term, most suggestive, and his- 
torically important, cannot pass without the attention 
which belongs to it. Such a truce is still an example, 
and also an argument ; but it is for nations. Eere is 
something to he imitated ; and here also is an appeal to 
the reason. If individuals or communities once rec- 
ognized the Truce of God, why not again ? And why 
may not its benediction descend upon nations also? Its 
origin goes hack to the darkest night. It was in 1032 
that the Bishop of Aqnitaine announced the appear- 
ance "l an angel with a message from Heaven, engag- 
ing men to cease from Mar and be reconciled. The 
people, already softened by calamity and disposed to 
supernatural impressions, hearkened to the sublime mes- 
. and consented From sunset Thursday to sunrise 
Monday each week, also during Advent and Lent, ami 
at the great festivals, all effusion of blood was inter- 
dicted, and qo man could molest bis adversary. Women, 
children, travellers, merchants, laborers, were assured 
perpetual peace. Every church was made an asylum, 

i Budibras, Part I. Canto 3, w. 23, 24. 



36 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

and, by happy association, the plough also sheltered 
from peril all who came to it. This respite, justly 
regarded as marvellous, was hailed as the Truce of God. 
Beginning in one neighborhood, it was piously extended 
until it embraced the whole kingdom, and then, by the 
authority of the Pope, became coextensive with Chris- 
tendom, while those who violated it were put under 
solemn ban. As these things passed, bishops lifted their 
crosses, and the people in their gladness cried, Peace ! 
Peace. ! 1 Originally too limited in operation and too 
short in duration, the Truce of God must again be pro- 
claimed for all places and all times, — proclaimed to all 
mankind and all nations, without distinction of person 
or calling, on all days of the week, without distinction 
of sacred days or festivals, and with one universal 
asylum, not merely the church and the plough, but 
every place and thing. 

From Private Wars, whose best lesson is the Truce of 
God, by which for a time they were hushed, I come to 
the Judicial Combat, or Trial by Battle, where, as in a 
mirror, we behold the barbarism of War, without truce 
of any kind. Trial by Battle was a formal and legiti- 
mate mode of deciding controversies, principally be- 
tween individuals. Like other ordeals, by walking 
barefoot and blindfold among burning ploughshares, 
by holding hoi iron, by dipping the hand in hot water 
or hoi oil, and like the great Ordeal of War, it was 
a presumptuous appeal to Providence, under the ap- 
prehension and hope thai Heaven would give the vic- 
tory to him who had the right. Its object was the 

i Robertson, Hit. of Charles V., Vol. I. note 21. Semichon, La Paix ct 
la Treve de Dieu, Tom. II. pp. 35, 53. 



Till: TBUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 37 

wry object of War, — the determination of ■> 

It was sanctioned by Municipal Law as an arbitrament 

tor individuals, as War, to the scandal of civilization 
is .-till sanctioned by International Law as an arbitra- 
ment for nations. "Men," says the brilliant French- 
man, Montesquieu, "subject even their prejudices to 
rules" ; and Trial by Battle, which he does not hesitate 
to denounce as a " monstrous usage," was surrounded by 
artificial regulations of multifarious detail, constituting 
an extensive system, determining how and when it 
should Lc waged, as War is surrounded by a complex 
code, known as the Laws of War. " Nothing," says 
Montesquieu again, "could be more contrary to good 
sense, but, once established, it was executed with a cer- 
tain prudence," — which is equally true of War. No 
battle-field for an army is selected with more care than 
was the field for Trial by Battle. An open space in the 
neighborhood of a church was often reserved for this 
purpose. At the famous Abbey of Saint-Germain-des- 
Fres, in Paris, there was a tribune for the judges, oxer- 
looking the adjoining meadow, which served for the 
field. 1 The combat was inaugurated by a solemn mass, 
according to a form still preserved, Missa pro Duello, so 
that, in ceremonial and sanction, as in the field, the 
Church was constantly present. Champions were hired, 
as soldiers now. 2 

No question was too sacred, grave, or recondite for this 

1 Sismondi, Hist dea Francais, Part. V. ch. 9, Tom. X. \<. - r U4. 

2 The pivotal character of Trial by Battle, aa an illustration of War, will 
justify a reference to the modern authorities, among which arc Robertson, 

who treats it with perspicuity and ful a (History of ('hail''- \ . Vol. 1- 

note 22), — Hallam, always instructive i Middle Ages, VoL I. < lhap. II. p 

— Blackstone, always clear (Commentaries, Book III. ch. '-'-. Bee. 5, and 
Book IV. ch. 27, sec. 3), — .Montesquieu, who ca^ts upon it a flood of 



38 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

tribunal. In France, the title of an Abbey to a neigh- 
boring clmich was decided by it; and an Emperor of 
Germany, according to a faithful ecclesiastic, "desir- 
ous of dealing honorably with his people and nobles " 
(mark here the standard of honor !), waived the judgment 
of the court on a grave question of law concerning the 
descent of property, and referred it to champions. Hu- 
man folly did not stop here. In Spain, a subtile point 
of theology was submitted to the same determination. 1 
But Trial by Battle was not confined to particular coun- 
tries or to rare occasions. It prevailed everywhere in 
Europe, superseding in many places all other ordeals, 
and even Trials by Proofs, while it extended not only to 
criminal matters, but to questions of property. In Or- 
leans it had an exceptional limitation, being denied in 
civil matters where the amount did not exceed five sous. 2 
Like War jn our day, its justice and fitness as an 
arbitrament were early doubted or condemned. Liut- 
prand, a king of the Lombards, during that middle period 
neither ancient nor modern, in a law bearing date A. D. 

light (Esprit des Lois, Liv. XXVIII. ch. 18-38), — Sismondi, humane and 
interesting (Histoire des Francais, Part. IV. ch. 11, Torn. VIII. pp. 
72-78), — Guizot, in a work of remarkable historic beauty, more grave than 
Montesquieu, ami enlightened by a better philosophy (Histoire de la Civili- 
sation en France depuis la Chute de I'Empire Romain, Tom. IV. pp. 89, 149 - 
166),— Wheaton, our learned countryman (History of the Northmen, Chap. 
III. and XII.), — al-o the two volume- of Millingen's History of Duelling, if 
so loose a compend deserves a place in this list. All these, describing 
Trial by Battle, testify against War. 1 cannot conceal that so great an au- 
thority as Selden, a most enlightened jurist of the Long Parliament, argues 

the lawfulness of the Duel from the lawfulness of War. After setting 

forth that "a duel may be granted in some cases by the law of England," 
he asks, "But whether Is tin- lawful?" ami then answers, u If you grant 
any war lawful, I make no doubt hut to convince it." (Table-Talk: Duel.) 
But if tie' Duel he unlawful, how then with War? 

1 Robertson, Hist. Charles V., Vol. I note 22. 

- Montesquieu, K-prit des i.oi-. I.iv. WVIII. ch. 19. 



THE TRUE GBANDEUB OF nations. 39 

724, declares his distrust of it as a mode of determin- 
ing justice; but the monarch is compelled to add, that, 
considering the custom of his Lombard people, he can- 
nol forbid the impious law. His words deserve em- 
phatic mention: "Propter consuetudinem gentis nostra 
Langobardorum LEGEM imn.wi vetare non possumus.." ' 
The appropriate epithet by which he branded Trial by 
Battle is the important bequest of the royal Lombard to 
a distant posterity. For tins the lawgiver will be cher- 
ished with grateful regard in the annals of civilization 

This custom received another blow from Eome. In 
the latter part of the thirteenth century, Don Pedro 
of Axagon, after exchanging letters of defiance with 
Charles of Anjou, proposed a personal combat, which 
was accepted, on condition that Sicily should be the 
prize of success. Each called down upon himself all 
the vengeance of Heaven, and the last dishonor, if, at 
the appointed time, he failed to appear before the Sen- 
eschal of Aquitaine, or, in case of defeat, refused to 
consign Sicily undisturbed to the victor. While they 
were preparing for the lists, the Pope, Martin the 
Fourth, protested with all his might against this new 
Trial by Battle, which staked the sovereignty of a 
kingdom, a feudatory of the Holy See, on a wild stroke 
of chance. By a papal bull, dated at Civita Vecchia, 
April 5th, 1283, he threatened excommunication to 
either of the princes who should proceed to a combat 
which he pronounced criminal and abominable. By a 
letter of the smile date, the Pope announced to Edward 
the First of England, Duke of Aquitaine, the agreemenl 
of tin* two princes, which he most earnestly declared to 

1 Lintprandi Leges, Lib. VI. cup. 66: Maratori, Berum Italic Script, 
Tom. I. pan 2, p. 74. 



40 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

be full of indecency and rashness, hostile to the con- 
cord of Christendom, and reckless of Christian blood; 
and he urged upon the English monarch all possible 
effort to prevent the combat, — menacing him with ex- 
communication, and his territories with interdict, if it 
should take place. Edward refusing to guaranty the 
safety of the combatants in Aquitaine, the parties re- 
tired without consummating their duel. 1 The judgment 
of the Holy See, which thus accomplished its immedi- 
ate object, though not in terms directed to the suppres- 
sion of the custom, remains, nevertheless, from its peculiar 
energy, a perpetual testimony against Trial by Battle. 

To a monarch of France belongs the honor of first 
interposing the royal authority for the entire suppres- 
sion within his jurisdiction of this impious custom, so 
universally adopted, so dear to the nobility, and so pro- 
foundly rooted in the institutions of the Feudal Age. 
And here let me pause with reverence as I pronounce the 
name of St. Louis, a prince whose unenlightened errors 
may find easy condemnation in an age of larger tolera- 
tion and wider knowledge, but whose firm and upright 
soul, exalted sense of justice, fatherly regard for the 
happiness of his people, respect for the rights of others, 
conscience void of offence toward God or man, make 
him foremost among Christian rulers, and the highest 
exaniplf for Christian prince or Christian people, — in 
one word, a model of True Greatness. He was of 
angelic conscience, subjecting whatever he did to the 
single and exclusive test of moral rectitude, disregard- 
ing every consideration of worldly advantage, all fear 
of worldly consequences. 

i Sismondi, Hist, des Frar^ais, Part. IV. ch. 15, Tom. VIII. pp. 338 - 347. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 41 

Bis soul, thus tremblingly sensitive to right, was 
shocked at the judicial combat It was a sin, in his 
sight, thus to tempt God, by demanding of him a mira- 
cle, whenever judgmenl was pronounced. From th 
intimate convictions sprang a royal ordinance, promul- 
gated first at a Parliament assembled in li'tii); " J/Y 
forbid to all persons throughout our dominions th Ti;i \i. 
BY Battle ; . . . . and instead of battles, we establish 
proofs by witnesses And these battles WE 

ABOLISH 1\ mi! DOMINIONS !•'< IREVEE." ' 

Such were the restraints on the royal authority, thai 
this beneficent ordinance was confined in operation to 
the demesnes of the king, not embracing those of the 
barons and feudatories. But where the power of the 
sovereign did not reach, there he labored by example, 
influence, and express intercession, — treating with the 
great vassals, and inducing many to renounce this un- 
natural usage. Though for years later it continued to 
vex parts of France, its overthrow commenced with the 
Ordinance of St. Louis. 

Honor and blessings attend this truly Christian king, 
who submitted all his actions to the Heaven-descended 
sentiment of Duty, — who began a long and illustrious 
reign by renouncing and restoring conquests of his pre- 
decessor, saying to those about him, whose souls did not 
ascend to his heights, " I know that the predecessors of 
the King of England lost alto-ether by right the con- 
quest which I hold; and the land which I give him 
I do not give because I am bound to him or his heirs, 
but to pvt love between my children and his children, who 
are cousin s-;/rruiitn ; and it seems to me that what I 

1 Guizot, Hist, de la Civilisation en France, Le9on 14, V6L IV. pp. 
162-164. 



42 THE TRUE GPwYNDEUIt OF NATIONS. 

thus give I employ to good purpose." * Honor to him 
who never by force or cunning grasped what was not 
his own, — who sought no advantage from the turmoil 
and dissension of his neighbors, — wdio, first of Chris- 
tian princes, rebuked the Spirit of War, saying to those 
who would have him profit by the strifes of others, 
" Blessed are the peacemakers," 2 — who, by an immor- 
tal ordinance, abolished Trial by Battle throughout his 
dominions, — who extended equal justice to all, whether 
his own people or his neighbors, and in the extremity of 
his last illness, before the walls of Timis, under a burn- 
ing African sun, among the bequests of his spirit, en- 
joined on his son and successor, " in maintaining justice, 
to be inflexible and loyal, turning neither to the right 
hand nor to the left." 3 

To condemn Trial by Battle no longer requires the 
sagacity above his age of the Lombard monarch, or 
the intrepid judgment of the Sovereign Pontiff, or the 
ecstatic soul of St. Louis. An incident of history, as 
curious as it is authentic, illustrates this point, and 
shows the certain progress of opinion; and this brings 
me to England, where this trial was an undoubted part of 
the early Common Law, with peculiar ceremonies sanc- 
tioned by ilic judges robed in scarlet. The learned 
Selden, noi content with tracing its origin, and exhib- 
iting its forms, with the oath of the duellist, "As (Jod me 
help, and his saints of Paradise," shows also the copart- 
nership of the Church through its liturgy appointing 
prayers for the occasion. 4 For some time it was the 

1 Guizot, 1 1 J - r . de In Civilisation en France, Lecon 1 1. Vol. IV. \>. 151. 

2 " I tit tuit li apaiseur. " — Foinville, p. 143. 

s Sismondi, Hist, des Francais, Part. IV. ch. 12, Tom. VIII. p. 106. 

4 Selden, The Duello, or Single Combat, from Antiquity derived into this 



THE TKli; (IKANDEUR OF STATIONS. 43 

milv mode of trying a writ of right, by which the title 
to real property was determined, and the fines from 
the numerous cases formed qo inconsiderable portion of 
the Bang's revenue. 3 It was partially restrained by 
Henry the Second, under the advice of his chief jus- 
ticiary, the ancient law-writer. ( danville, substituting 
the Grand Assize as an alternative, on the trial of a 
writ of right; and the reason assigned fortius substitu- 
tion was the uncertainty of the I hiel, so thai after many 

and long delays justice was scarcely obtained, in con- 
trast with the other trial, which was more convenient 
and swift. 2 At a later day, Trial by Battle was re- 
buked by Elizabeth, who interposed to compel the par- 
ties to a composition, — although, for the sake of their 
honor, as it was called, the lists were marked out and 
all the preliminary forms observed with much cere- 
mony. 8 It was awarded under Charles the First, and 
the proceeding went so far thai a day was proclaimed 
for the combatants to appear with spear, long sword, 
.short sword, and dagger, when the duel was adjourned 
from time to time, and at last the Tdng compelled 
an accommodation without bloodshed, 4 Though fallen 

Kingdom of England; also, Table Talk, Dud: Works, VoL III. col. 19 
2027. 

1 Madox, lli-t. of Exchequer, Vol. I. p. 849. 

- •• Est autem magna Assisa regale qnoddam beneficinm, .... qim vitSB 
hominum et status integritati tarn salubriter consulitur, ut in jure quod quis 

in libero -"li tenemento possidet retinendo, duelli casum declinare | unl 

homines ambiguum In- enim, quod post multas tt longat dUaliotu 

''.//• ji> r iln, Hum, per beneficium istius constitutionis commodius • 
celeratius expeditur." (Glanville, Tractatus de Legibus el Consuetudinibus 
I: ; li Anglise, Lib. II. cap. ".> These pointed words are precisely applica- 
ble tu our Arbitrament of War, with its many ami long delays, bo little 
productive of justice. 

» Robertson, Hist. Charles V., Vol, I. aoto 22. 

4 Proceeding- in the Court of Chivalry, mi an Appeal of High Treason by 



44 THE TKUE GRANDEUK OF NATIONS. 

into desuetude, quietly overruled by the enlightened 
sense of successive generations, yet, to the disgrace of 
English jurisprudence, it was not legislatively abol- 
ished till near our own day, — as late as 1819, — 
the right to it having been openly claimed in West- 
minster Hall only two years previous. An ignorant 
man, charged with murder, — whose name, Abraham 
Thornton, is necessarily connected with the history of 
this monstrous usage, — being proceeded against by 
the ancient process of appeal, pleaded, when brought 
into court, as follows : " Not guilty ; and I am ready to 
defend the same by my body " : and thereupon taking 
off his glove, he threw it upon the floor. The appellant, 
not choosing to accept this challenge, abandoned his 
proceedings. The bench, the bar, and the whole king- 
dom were startled by the infamy ; and at the next ses- 
sion of Parliament Trial by Battle was abolished in 
England. In the debate on this subject, the Attorney- 
General remarked, in appropriate terms, that, " if the 
appellant had persevered in the Trial by Battle, he 
had no doubt the legislature would have felt it their 
imperious duty at once to interfere, and pass an ex post 
facto law to prevent so degrading a spectacle from taking 
place." 1 

These words evince the disgust which Trial by Bat- 
tle excites in our day. Its lolly and wickedness are con- 
spicuous to all. Reverting to that early period in which 
ii prevailed, our minds are impressed by the general bar- 
barism; we recoil with honor from the awful subjection 
of justice to brute force, — from the impious profanation 
Donald Lord Rea againsl Mr. David Ramsay, 7 Cha. I., 1681 : Hargrave's 

State Trials Vol. XI. pp. 124-131. 

1 Hansard, Purl. Debutes, XXXIX. 1101. Blackstone, Com., III. 337, 
Chitty's note. 



THE TRUE GUANI'KI'I: OF NAIIo.vs. 45 

of God in deeming him present at these outrages, — 
from the mora] degradation out of which they sprang, 
and which they perpetuated; we enrobe ourselves in 
self-complacenl virtue, and thank God thai we are not 
as these men, — that ours is an age of light, while theirs 
was an age of darkness ! 

Bui remember, fellow-citizens, thai this criminal and 
impious custom, which all condemn in the case of in- 
dividuals, is openly avowed by our own country, and 
by other countries of the great Christian Federation, 
oay, that it is expressly established by International 
Law, as the proper mode of determining just in between 
nations, — while the feats of hardihood by which it is 
waged, and the triumphs of its fields, arc exalted be- 
yond all other labors, whether of learning, industry, or 
benevolence, as the well-spring of Glory. Alas! upon 
our own heads he the judgment of barbarism which we 
pronounce upon those that have gone before ! At this 
moment, in this period of light, while to the contented 
souls of many the noonday sun of civilization seems to 
be standing still in the heavens, as upon Gibeon, the 
dealings between nal ions are still governed by the odious 
rules of brute violence which once predominated be- 
tween individuals. The Dark Ages have doI passed 
away; Erebus and black Night, born of Chaos, still 
brood over the earth: nor can we hail the clear day, 
until the hearts of nations are touched, as the hearts of 
individual men, and all acknowledge one and the same 
Law of Right. 

What has taughl you. man I thus to find glory in 
an act, performed by a nation, which you condemn 
crime or a barbarism, when committed by an individual ? 



46 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

In what vain conceit of wisdom and virtue do you find 
this incongruous morality ? Where is it declared that 
God, who is no respecter of persons, is a respecter of 
multitudes ? Whence do you draw these partial laws 
of an impartial God? Man is immortal; but Nations 
are mortal. Man has a higher destiny than Nations. 
Can Nations be less amenable to the supreme moral 
law ? Each individual is an atom of the mass. Must 
not the mass, in its conscience, be like the individuals of 
which it is composed ? Shall the mass, in relations witli 
other masses, do what individuals in relations with each 
other may not do ? As in the physical creation, so in 
the moral, there is but one rule for the individual and 
the mass. It was ' the lofty discovery of Newton, that 
the simple law which determines the fall of an ap- 
ple prevails everywhere throughout the Universe,: — 
ruling each particle in reference to every other particle, 
large or small, — reaching from earth to heaven, and con- 
trolling the infinite motions of the spheres. So, with 
equal scope, another simple law, the Law of Eight, 
which binds the individual, binds also two or three when 
gathered together, — binds conventions and congrega- 
tions of men, — binds villages, towns, and cities, — 
binds states, nations, and races, — clasps the whole hu- 
man family in its sevenfold embrace; nay, more, beyond 

'• the flaming bounds of place and time, 
The living throne, the sapphire blaze," 

it binds the angels of Heaven, Cherubim, full of knowl- 
edge, Seraphim, full of love; above all, it binds, in self- 
imposed bonds, a jusl and omnipotent God. This is the 
law of which tlic ancient poet sings, as Queen alikeof 
mor/i'/s and immortals. It is of this, and not of any 
earthly law, that Hooker speaks in that magnificent pe- 



THK tkii: i.i;\mm:ii; OF NATIONS. 47 

riod which sounds like an anthem: " Of Law there can 
be no less acknowledged than thai her seal is the bosom 
of God, hei voice the harmony of the world; all things 
in heaven and earth do her homage, the very Least as 
feeling her care, and the greatesl as nut exempted from 
her power: both angels and men, and creatures of what 
condition soever, though each in different sort and man- 
lier, vet all with uniform consent, admiring her as the 
mother of their peace and joy." Often quoted, and 
justly admired, sometimes as the finest sentence of our 
Knglish speech, this -rand declaration cannot be more 
fitly invoked than to condemn the pretence of one 
law tor the individual and another for the nation. 

Stripped of all delusive apology, and tried by that 
comprehensive law under which nations are set to the 
bar like common men, War falls from glory into barbar- 
ous guilt, taking its place among bloody transgressions, 
while its flaming honors are turned into shame. Pain- 
ful to existing prejudice as this may be, we must Learn 
to abhor it, as we abhor similar transgressions by vulgar 
offender, Every word of reprobation which the enlight- 
1 conscience now fastens upon the savage combatant 
in Trial by Battle, or which it applies to the unhappy 
being who in murderous duel takes the life of his 
fellow-man, belongs also to the nation that appeals to 
War. Amidst the thunders of Sinai God declared, 
" Thou shalt not kill" ; and the voice of these thunders, 
with this commandment, is prolonged to our own day in 
the echoes of Christian churches. What mortal shall 
restrict the application of these words? Who on earth 
is empowered to vary or abridge the commandments of 
God? Who shall presume to declare that this injunc- 
tion was directed, not to nations, but to individuals 



48 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

only, — not to many, but to one only, — that one man 
shall not kill, but that many may, — that one man shall 
not slay in Duel, but that a nation may slay a multi- 
tude in the duel of War, — that each individual is 
forbidden to destroy the life of a single human being, 
but that a nation is not forbidden to cut off by the 
sword a whole people ? We are struck with horror, and 
our hair stands on end, at the report of a single murder ; 
we think of the soul hurried to final account; we hunt 
the murderer ; and Government puts forth its energies to 
secure his punishment. Viewed in the unclouded light 
of Truth, what is War but organized murder, — murder 
of malice aforethought, — in cold blood, — under sanc- 
tions of impious law, — through the operation of an ex- 
tensive machinery of crime, — with innumerable hands, 
— at incalculable cost of money, — by subtle contriv- 
ances of cunning and skill, — or amidst the fiendish 
atrocities of the savage, brutal assault ? 

By another commandment, not less solemn, it is de- 
clared, "Thou shalt not steal" ; and then again there is 
another forbidding to covet what belongs to others : 
but all this is done by War, which is stealing and cove- 
tousness organized by International Law. The Scythian, 
undisturbed by the illusion of military glory, snatched 
a phrase of justice from an acknowledged criminal, when 
he called Alexander " the greatest robber in the world." 
And the Roman satirist, filled with similar truth, in 
pungenl words touched to the quick that flagrant, un- 
blushing injustice which dooms to condign punishment 
the very guilt that in another sphere and on a grander 
scale is hailed with acclamation : — 

" Die cruccm scclcris pretium tulit, hie diadema." } 
1 Juvenal, Sat. XIII. 106. The same judgment is pronounced by Fenelon 



THE TRUE GRANDEUB OF N vi [0 49 

While condemnine- tin* ordinary malefactor, mankind, 
blind td the real character of War, may yel a little 
longer erown the gianl actor with glory; a generous 
posterity may pardon to unconscious barbarism the 
atrocities which have been waged; bu1 the custom, 
as organized by existing law, cannot escape the un- 
erring judgment of reason and religion. The outrages, 
which, under most solemn sanctions, it permits and in- 
vokes for professed purposes of justice, cannot be au- 
thorized by any human power; and they musl rise in 
overwhelming judgment, not only againsl those who 
wield the weapons of Hattle, hut more still againsl all 
who uphold its monstrous Arbitrament 

When, 0, when shall the St. Louis of the Nations 
arise, — Christian ruler or Christian people, — who, in 
the Spirit of True Greatness, shall proclaim, that hence- 
forward forever the great Trial by Battle shall cease, — 
that "these battles " shall be abolished throughout the 
Commonwealth ol' Civilization, — that c spectacle so de- 
grading shall never he allowed again to take place, — 
and that it is the duty ol' nations, involving the high- 
esl and wisesl policy, to establish love between each 
other, and, in all respects, at all times, with all persons, 
whether their own people or the people of other lauds. 
to be governed by the sacred Law of Bight, as between 
man and man '. 

IV. 

I am now broughl to review the obstacles encdui 

by those who, according to the injunction of St. August 

in lii< counsels to royalty, entitled, Examende Conscience sur let Devoirs de 
la Royaute. 



50 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

tine, would make war on War, and slay it with the 
word. To some of these obstacles I alluded at the 
beginning, especially the warlike literature, by which 
the character is formed. The world has supped so full 
with battles, that its modes of thought and many of its 
rules of conduct are incarnadined with blood, as the 
bones of swine, feeding on madder, are said to become 
red. Not to be tempted by this theme, I hasten on to 
expose in succession those various prejudices so pow- 
erful still in keeping alive the custom of "War, including 
that greatest prejudice, mighty parent of an infinite 
brood, at whose unreasoning behest untold sums are 
absorbed in Preparations for War. 

1. One of the most important is the prejudice from 
belief in its necessity. "When War is called a necessity, 
it is meant, of course, that its object can be attained in 
no other way. Now I think it has already appeared, 
with distinctness approaching demonstration, that the 
professed objed of War, which is justice between na- 
tions, is in no respect promoted by War, — that force 
is not justice, nor in anyway conducive to justice, — 
that the eagles of victory are the emblems of success- 
ful force only, and not of established right. Justice is 
obtained solely by the exercise of reason and judgment; 
1 mt these are silenl in the din of arms. Justice is with- 
out pi ion; but War lets loose all the worst passions, 
while " Chance, high arbiter, more embroils the fray." 
The age is gone when a nation within the enchanted 
circle of civilization could make war upon its neigh- 
bors for any declared purpose of booty or vengeance. 
It doe " noughl in hate, hut all in junior." Such is the 
presenl rule. Professions of tenderness mingle with 



THE TBUE GRANDEUB OF V\l [ONS 51 

the fiisl mutteringa of strife. As if conscience-struck 
at the criminal abyss into which they are plunging, cadi 
of the. great litigants seeks to fix upon the other some 
charge of hostile aggression, or to set up the excuse 
of defending smut' asserted right, some Texas, some 
Oregon Bach, like Pontius Pilate, vainly washes its 
hands oi' innocent hlood, and straightway allows a 
cvinic at which the whole heavens are darkened, and 
two kindivd countries are severed, as the vail of the 
Temple was rent in twain. 

Proper modes for the determination of international 
dispute-, are Negotiation, Mediation, Arbitration, and a 
Congress of Nations, — all practicable, and calculated 
to secure peaceful justice. 1'iider existing Law of Na- 
tions these may be employed at any time, But tin very 
law sanctioning War may be changed, as regards two or 
more nations by treaty between them, and as regards 
the body of nations by general consent. If nations 
can agree in solemn provisions of International Law 
to establish War as Arbiter of Justice, they can also 
agree to abolish this arbitrament, and to establish peace- 
ful substitutes, — precisely as similar substitutes are 
established by Municipal Law to determine contro- 
versies among individuals. A system of Arbitration 
may be instituted, or a Congress of Nations, charged 
with the high duty of organizing an Ultimate Tribunal, 
instead of "these battles." To do this, the will only is 
required. 

Let it not he said, then, that war is a necessity; and 
may our country aspire to the glory of taking the lead 
in disowning the barbarous system of Lyni ii Law 
am* <] v. hi] it procl ceful substitutes ! 

Such a glory, unlike the earthly lane of battle, will hi' 



52 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

immortal as the stars, dropping perpetual light upon 
the souls of men. 

2. Another prejudice is founded on the practice of 
nation*, past and present. There is no crime or enor- 
mity in morals which may not find the support of hu- 
man example, often on an extended scale. But it will 
not he urged in our day that we are to look for a stand- 
ard of duty in the conduct of vain, fallible, mistaken 
man. Not by any subtile alchemy can man transmute 
Wrong into Eight. Because War is according to the 
practice of the world, it does not follow that it is right. 
For ages the world worshipped false gods, — not less 
false because all bowed before them. At this moment 
the prevailing numbers of mankind are heathen ; but 
heathenism is not therefore true. Once it was the 
practice of nations to slaughter prisoners of war; but 
the Spirit of War recoils now from lb is bloody sacri- 
fice. By a perverse morality in Sparta, theft, instead 
of being a crime, was, like War, dignified into an art 
and accomplishment ; like War, it was admitted into 
the system of youthful education ; and, like War, it Mas 
illustrated by an instance of unconquerable firmness, 
barbaric counterfeit of virtue. The Spartan youth, 
with the stolen fox beneath his robe eating into his 
bowels, is an example nl' fortitude not unlike that so 
often admired in the soldier. Other illustrations crowd 
upon the mind; bu1 I will not dwell upon them. We 
turn with disgust from Spartan cruelty and the wolves 
of Taygetus, — from the awful cannibalism of the 
Feejee Islands, from the profane rites of innumer- 
able savages, — from the crushing Juggernaut, — from 
the Hindoo widow on her funeral pyre, — from the 



THE TBUB GEANDEUB OF NATIONS. 

Indian dancing a1 the stake; bul had ool all these, like 
A\"; 1 1-, tin' sanction of established usage '. 

Often is it said that we need not he wiser than our 
fathers. Rather strive to excel our lathers. Wha1 in 
them was good imitate; hut do nut land ourselves, as 
in chains of Fate, by their imperfect example. In all 
modesty he it said, we have lived to little purpose, if we 
are not wiser than the generations that havegone before. 
It is the exalted distinction of man that he is progres- 
sive, — that his reason is uol merely the reason of a 
single human being, hut that ill' the whole human race, 
in all agea from which knowledge has descended, in all 
lands from which it has been home away. We are the 
heirs to an inheritance grandly accumulating from gen- 
eration to generation, with the superadded products of 
other lands. The child at his mother's knee is im\v 
taught the orbits of the heavenly bodies, 

" Where worlds on worlds compose one Universe," 

the nature of this globe, the character of the tribes by 
which it is covered, and the geography of countries, to 
an extent far beyond the ken of the most learned in 
other days. It is true, therefore, that antiquity is the 
real infancy of man. Then is lie immature, ignorant, 
wayward, selfish, childish, finding his chief happiness in 
lowest pleasures, unconscious of the higher. The ani- 
mal reigns supreme, and he seeks contest, war, blood. 
Already he has lived through infancy and childhood. 
Reason and the kindlier virtues, repudiating and ah- 
horring force, now hear sway. The time has come 
for temperance, moderation, peace. We are the true 
ancients. The single lock on the battered forehead of 
old Time is thinner now than when our lathers at- 



54 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

tempted to grasp it ; the hour-glass has been turned 
often since ; the scythe is heavier laden with the work 
of death. 

Let us not, then, take for a lamp to our feet the 
feeble taper that glimmers from the sepulchre of the 
Past. Rather hail that ever-burning light above, in 
whose beams is the brightness of noonday. 

3. There is a topic which I approach with diffidence, 
but in the spirit of frankness. It is the influence which 
War, though condemned by Christ, has derived from 
the Christian Church. When Constantine, on one of 
his marches, at the head of his army, beheld the lumi- 
nous trophy of the cross in the sky, right above the 
meridian sun, inscribed with the words, By this conquer, 
had his soul been penetrated by the true spirit of Him 
whose precious symbol it was, he would have found no 
inspiration to the spear and the sword. He would have 
received the lesson of self-sacrifice as from the lips of 
the Saviour, and learned that by no earthly weapon of 
battle can true victory lie won. The pride of conquest 
would have been relinked, and the bawl tie sceptre have 
fallen from his hands. By this conquer: by patience, 
suffering, forgiveness of evil, by all those virtues of 
which the cross is the affecting token, conquer, and the 
victory shall be greater than any in the annals of Ro- 
man conquest; it may not yet find a place in the 
records of man, hut it will appear in the register of 
everlasting life. 

Tin' Christian Church, after the early centuries, failed 
to discern the peculiar spiritual beauty of the faith it 
professed. Like Constantine, it found new incentive to 
War in the religion of Peace; and such is its character, 



Illi: TRUE GEANDEUB OB NATIONS. 00 

even in our own day. The Pope of Rome, the asserted 
head of the Church, Vicegerent of Christ upon earth, 
whose seal is a fisherman, od whose banner is a Lamb 
before the Holy Cross, assumed the command of armies, 
mingling tin- thunders of Battle with the thunders of 
the Vatican. The dagger projecting from the sacred 
vestments of De Retz, while still an archbishop, was 
justly derided by the Parisian crowd as "the Arch- 
bishop's breviary." We read of mitred prelates in 
armor of proof, and seem still to catch the clink of 
the golden spurs of bishops in the streets of Co- 
Logne. The sword of knighthood was consecrated by 
the Church, and priests were expert masters in mili- 
tary exercises. 1 have seen at the gates of the Papal 
Palace in Rome a constant guard of Swiss soldiers; I 
have seen, too, in our own streets, a show as incongru- 
ous and inconsistent,— the pastor of a Christian church 
swelling the pomp of a military parade. And some 
have heard, within a few short weeks, in a Christian 
pulpit, from the lips of an eminent Christian divine, a 
sermon, w here wo are encouraged to sm-r (he God of 
Battles, and, as citizen soldiers, fight for Peaa : l a senti- 
ment in unhappy harmony with the profane language 
of the British peer, who, in addressing the House of 
Lord-, said, " The best road /<> Peace, my Lords, is War, 
and that in the manner we are taught to worship our 
Creator, namely, by carrying it on with all our souls, 
with all our minds, with all our hearts, and with all 
our strength," a — but finding small support in a religion 
that expressly enjoins, when one cheek is smitten, to 

1 Discourse before the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company, by 
A. II. Vinton. 
- Earl of Abingdon, May 80, 1794; Bansaxd, Pari. Hist, .\\.\l. ■ 



56 THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

turn the other, and which we hear with pain from 
a minister of Christian truth, — alas ! thus made infe- 
rior to that of the heathen who preferred the unjustest 
peace to the justest war. 1 

Well may we marvel that now, in an age of civiliza- 
tion, the God of Battles should be invoked. " Deo im- 
perante, quem adesse bellantibus credunt," are the 
appropriate words of surprise in which Tacitus de- 
scribes a similar delusion of the ancient Germans. 2 
The polite Roman did not think God present with 
fighting men. This ancient superstition must have lost 
something of its hold even in Germany ; for, at a 
recent period, her most renowned captain, — - whose false 
glory procured for him the title of Great, — Frederick 
of Prussia, declared, with commendable frankness, that 
he always found the God of Battles on the side of the 
strongest regiments ; and when it was proposed to 
place on his banner, soon to flout the sky of Silesia, 
the inscription, For God and Country, he rejected the 
first word, declaring it not proper to introduce the name 
of the Deity in the quarrels of men. By this ele- 
vated sentiment the warrior monarch may be remem- 
bered, when his fame of battle has passed away. 

The French priest of Mars, who proclaimed the 

1 "Veliniqulstimampacem justissimo bello anleferre,m" are the words of 
Cicero. (Epist. A. Csecinse: Epp. ad Diversos, VI. 6.) Only eight days after 
Franklin had placed his name to the treaty of peace which acknowledged 
the independence of his country, he wrote to a friend, " May we never see 
another war! for, in my opinion, there never was a good war or a bad peace." 
(Letter to Josiab Qnincy : Works, ed. Sparks, Vol. X. p. 11.) It is with sin- 
cere regret that I Beem, by n particular allusion, to depart for a moment 
from 90 great a theme; but the person and the theme here become united. 
I cannot refrain from the effort to tear thi^ iron branch of War from the 
golden tree of Christian Truth, even though a voice come forth from the 
breaking bough. 

'■! l)e Moribits Cernian., Cap. 7. 



T1IK TKIT. OKANMTK OB RATIONS. .",7 

"divinity" of War, rivals the ancient Germans in faith 
th;it God is the tutelary guardian of battle, and he finds 
a new title, which be says "shines" on all the pa 
of Scripture, being none other than God of Armies? 
Never was greater mistake X<> theology, no theodicy, 
has ever attributed to Clod this title. God is God of 
Heaven, God of Hosts, the Living God, and he is God 
of Peace, — so called l>y St. Paul, savin-, " Now the God 
of Peace be with you all," 2 and again, " The God of Peace 
shall bruise Satan shortly," 8 — hut God of Annies he is 
not, as lie is not God of Battles. 4 The title, whether of 
Armies or of Hosts, thus invoked for War, has an oppo- 
site import, even angelic, — the armies named being sim- 
ply, according to authorities Ecclesiastical and Rabbinical, 
the hosts of angels standing about the throne. Who, 
then, is God of Battles? It is Mars, — man-slaying, 
blood-polluted, city-smiting Mars ! 5 It is not He "who 
binds the sweet influences of the Pleiades and looses the 
bands of Orion, who causes the sun to shine on the evil 
and the good, who distils the oil of gladness upon every 
upright heart, who tempers the wind to the shorn 
land), — the Fountain of Mercy and Goodness, the God 
of Justice and Love. Mars is not the God of Chris- 
tians; he is not Our Father in Heaven; to him can 
ascend no prayers of Christian thanksgiving, no words 
of Christian worship, no pealing anthem to swell the 
note of praise. 

And yet Christ and Mars are still brought into fel- 

1 Joeepfa de fcfaisfare, SoWea de Saint-P&ersbourg, Tom. II. p. 27. 
- Romans, xv. 33. 

3 Ibid., xvi. 20. 

4 A volume so common as Cruden's Concordance shows the audacity of 
the martial claim. 

5 Iliad, V. 31. 

3* 



58 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

lowship, even interchanging pulpits. What a picture 
of contrasts ! A national ship of the line now floats 
in this harbor. Many of you have pressed its deck, 
and observed with admiration the completeness which 
prevails in all its parts, — its lithe masts and complex 
network of ropes, — its thick wooden walls, within 
which are more than the soldiers of Ulysses, — its 
strong defences, and its numerous dread and rude- 
throated engines of War. There, each Sabbath, amidst 
this armament of blood, while the wave comes gently 
plashing against the frowning sides, from a pulpit sup- 
ported by a cannon, in repose now, but ready to awake 
its dormant thunder charged with death, a Christian 
preacher addresses officers and crew. May his in- 
structions carry strength and succor to their souls ! 
But, in such a place, those highest words of the Mas- 
ter he professes, " Blessed are the peacemakers," " Love 
your enemies," " Resist not evil," must, like Macbeth' s 
"Amen," stick in the throat. 

It will not be doubted that this strange and unblessed 
conjunction of the Church with War has no little in- 
fluence in blinding the world to the truth, too slowly 
recognized, that the whole custom of war is contrary to 
Christianity. 

Individual interests mingle with prevailing errors, 
and are so far concerned in maintaining them that 
military men yield reluctantly to this truth. Like law- 
yers, as described by Voltaire, they are "conservators of 
ancienl barbarous usages." Bui thai these usages should 
obtain countenance in the < Jhurch is one of those anom- 
alies which make us feel the weakness of our nature, 
if no1 the elevation of christian truth. To uphold the 
Arbitramenl of War requires no more than to uphold 



Till'. TRUE GBANDEUB OF NATIONS. 

the Trial by Battle ; for the two are identical, except in 
proportion. One is a giant, the other a pygmy. Long 
i the church condemned the pygmy, and this Chris- 
tian judgment now awaits extension to the giant. 
Meanwhile it is perpetual testimony ; hot should it 
be forgotten, that, for sonic time after the Apostles, 
when the message of peace and good-will was Grsi re- 
ceived, many yielded to it so completely as to reject 
arms of all kinds. Such was the voice of Justin Mar- 
tyr, Lreneeus, Tertullian, and Origen, while Augustine 
pleads always for Peace. Gibbon coldly recounts, how 
Maximilian, a youthful recruit from Africa, refused to 
serve, insisting that his conscience would not permit 
him to embrace the profession of soldier, ami then 
how Marcellus the Centurion, mi the day of a public 
festival, threw away his belt, his anus, and the ensigns 
of command, exclaiming with a loud voice, that he 
would obey none lmt Jesus Christ, the Eternal Kin-. 1 
Martyrdom ensued, and the Church has inscribed their 
names on its everlasting rolls, thus forever commemo- 
rating their testimony. These are early examples, nol 
without successors. Bui Mais, so potent, especially in 
Rome, was not easily dislodged, and down to this day 
holds his place at Christian altars. 

"Thee to defend the Moloch priest prefi 
The prayer of hate, and bellows to the herd, 
That Deity, accpmplice Deity, 
In the fierce jealousy of wakened wrath, 

Will go forth with om armies and our fleets 
I o scatter the red ruin on their foes ! 
<», blasphemy! to mingle fiendish d 
With blessednest 

1 Gihbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Chap. XVI. Vol. I. p. 
680. 

2 Coleridge, Religious Musings, written Christmas Eve, Vt 



GO THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

One of the beautiful pictures adorning the dome of a 
church in Rome, by that master of Art, whose immortal 
colors speak as with the voice of a poet, the Divine 
Raphael, represents Mars in the attitude of War, with 
a drawn sword uplifted and ready to strike, while an 
unarmed angel from behind, with gentle, but irresist- 
ible force, arrests and holds the descending hand. Such 
is the true image of Christian duty ; nor can I readily 
perceive any difference in principle between those min- 
isters of the Gospel who themselves gird on the sword, 
as in the olden time, and those others, unarmed, and in 
customary suit of solemn black, who lend the sanction 
of their presence to the martial array, or to any form of 
preparation for War. The drummer, who pleaded that 
he did not fight, was held more responsible for the bat- 
tle than the soldier, — as it w r as the sound of his drum 
that inflamed the flagging courage of the troops. 

4 From prejudices engendered by the Church I pass 
to prejudices engendered by the army itself, having their 
immediate origin in military lite, but unfortunately dif- 
fusing themselves throughout the community, in widen- 
ing, though less apparent circles. I allude directly to 
what is called the Point of Honor, early child of Chivalry, 
living representative of its barbarism. 1 It is difficult to 
define what is so evanescent, so impalpable, so chimeri- 
cal, SO unreal, and yet which exercises such fiendish 

1 Tin' Point of Honor has a literature of its own, illustrated by many vol- 
umes, some idea of which may be obtained in Brunet, " .Manuel du Libraire," 
Tom. VI. col. lG.'iG- 1638, under the head of Chevakrie au Moyen Age, com- 
prennnl les Tournou, let Gwibats Singuliers, etc. One of these has a title 
much in advance of the :i<_r<> in which it appeared : " Chrestienne Confutation 
<lu Point d'Honneur sur lequel la Noblesse fonde aujourd'hui ses Querelles 
et Monomachics," oar Christ, de Chill'ontaine, Paris, 1679. 



Till: TRUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. til 

power over many men, and controls the intercourse of na- 
tions. As a Little water, fallen into the ere\ ice of a rock, 
under the congelation of winter, swells till it bursts the 
thick and Btony fibres, bo a word or slender act, drop- 
ping into the heart of man. under the hardening in- 
fluence of this pernicious sentiment, dilates till it rends 
in pieces the sacred depository of human affection, and 
the demons Hate and Strife are left to rage. The mus- 
ing Hamlet saw this sent iment in its strange and unnat- 
ural potency, when his soul pictured to his contempla- 
tions an 

"army of Buch mass and rharge, 

Led by a delicate and tender prince 

Exposing what is mortal and unsure 

To all that fortune, death, and danger dan, 

Even for an egg-shell"; 

and when, again, giving to the sentiment its strongest 
and most popular expression, he exclaims, — 

" Rightly to be great 
Is not to stir without great argument, 
But greatly to find quaml in a straw, 
When honor 's at the stale." 

And when is honor at stake l Tin's inquiry opens 

d the argumenl with which I commenced, and with 

which I In ipe to close. Honor can be at stake only 

where justice and beneficence are at stake ; it can never 

depend Oil egg-shell or straw; it can never depend on 

any hasty word <>!' anger or folly, not even if fol- 
lowed by vulgar violence. True honor appears in the 
dignity of the human soul, in thai highesl mural and 
intellectual excellence which is the nearest approach to 
qualities we reverence as attributes of God. Our com- 
munity frowns with indignation upon the profanem 
of the dud, having its rise in this irrational point of 



62 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

honor. Are you aware that you indulge the same senti- 
ment on a gigantic scale, when you recognize this very 
point of honor as a proper apology for War ? We have 
already seen that justice is in no respect promoted by 
War. Is True Honor promoted where justice is not ? 
The very word Honor, as used by the world, fails to 
express any elevated sentiment. How immeasurably 
below the sentiment of Duty ! It is a word of easy 
virtue, that has been prostituted to the most opposite 
characters and transactions. From the field of Pavia, 
where France suffered one of the worst reverses in her 
annals, the defeated king writes to his mother, "All 
is lost, except honor." At a later day, the renowned 
French cook, Vatel, in a paroxysm of grief and mortifi- 
cation at the failure of two dishes for the table, exclaims, 
" I have lost my honor ! " and stabs himself to the heart. 1 
Montesquieu, whose writings are constellations of epi- 
grams, calls honor a prejudice only, which he places in 
direct contrast with virtue, — the former being the ani- 
mating principle of monarchy, and the latter the ani- 
mating principle of a republic ; but he reveals the inferi- 
ority of honor, as a principle, when he adds, that, in a 
well-governed monarchy, almost everybody is a good 



1 The death of the culinary martyr is described by Madame de Sevigne* 
with the accustomed coldness and brilliancy of her fashionable pen (Lettres 
L. and LI., Tom. I. pp. 1G4, 165). It was attributed, she says, to the high 
sense of honor he had after his omi way. Tributes multiply. A French 
vaudeville associates his name with that of this brilliant writer, saying, 
" Madame de Se^ igne" and Vatel arc the people who honored the age of Louis 
XIV." The Almanack des Gourmands, in the Epistle Dedicatory of its con- 
cluding volume, addresses the venerable shade of the heroic cook: "Yon 
have proved that the fanaticism of honor can exist in the kitchen as well as 
th'' camp." Berchoux commemorates the dying exclamation in La Gastro- 
nomic, Chant III.: — 

" Je suis perdu d'honneur, deux rotis ont manqud." 



THE T1U T K CUAXnEl'I! OF NATIONS. 

citizen, while it is rare to meel a reallygood man. 1 The 
man of honor is not the man of vrirtue. By an instinct 
pointing to the truth, we do not apply this term to the 
high columnar qualities which sustain and decorate life, 
— parental affection, justice, benevolence, the attributes 
of God. He would seem to borrow a feebler phra 
showing a slight appreciation of the distinctive character 
to whom reverence is accorded, who should speak of 
father, mother, judge, angel, ot anally of God, as persons 
of honor. In such sacred connections, we feel, beyond 
the force of any argument, the mundane character of 
the sentiment which plays such a part in history and 
«'\ en in common life. 

The rule of honor is founded in the imagined neces- 
sity of resenting by force a supposed injury, whether of 
word or act. 2 Admit the injury received, seeming to 
sully the character ; is it wiped away by any force, and 
descent to the brutal level of its author? "Could I 
wipe your blood from my conscience as easily as this 
insult from my lace," said a Marshal of France, greater 
on this occasion than on any field of fame, " I would 
lay you dead at my feet." Plato, reporting the angelic 
wisdom of Socrates, declares, in one of those beautiful 
dialogues shining with stellar light across the ages, 



i Esprit des Lois, Liv. III. eh. 3-7. 

2 This i- well exposed in a comedy of Moliere. 

'■Dim /' - is quelque chose do moi ? 

'• Hull. Oui, un conseil Mir unfail <lhanneur. Jc sai.« qu'en ccs matieros 
il o?t mal-aise' de trouver on cavalier pins consomme" que vous 

'• Seigneur,j'ai regu un toufflt t. Vous savez ce qu'est un soufflet, lorsqu'il 
Be donne h main ouverte Bur le beau milieu de la joue. J'ai ce soufflet fort 
sur le ctur ; elje sum dons Vinci rtltude, si. pour me venger de l'n£ron(,je dois 
me bnttre avec morn homme, f>u Lien le /aire nssassiner. 

" Don Pedre. Assassincr, e'est le plus stir et le plus court chemin." 

Le Sicilien, Sc. A I II. 



G4 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

that to do a wrong is more shameful than to receive a 
wrong} And this benign sentiment commends itself 
alike to the Christian, who is bid to render good far 
evil, and to the enlightened soul of man. But who con- 
fessing its truth will resort to force on any point of 
honor ? 

In ancient Athens, as in unchristianized Christian 
lands, there were sophists who urged that to suffer 
was unbecoming a man, and would draw down incalcu- 
lable evil. The following passage, which I translate 
with scrupulous literalness, will show the manner in 
which the moral cowardice of these persons of little 
faith was rebuked by him whom the gods of Greece 
pronounced Wisest of Men. 

" These things being so, let us inquire what it is you 
reproach me with : whether it is well said, or not, that 
I, forsooth, am not able to assist either myself or any of 
my friends or my relations, or to save myself from the 
greatest dangers, but that, like the infamous, I am at the 
mercy of any one who may choose to smite me on the 
face (for this was your juvenile expression), or take 
away my property, or drive me out of the city, or (the 
extreme case) kill me, and that to be so situated is, as 
you say, the most shameful of all things. But my view 
is, — a view many times expressed already, but there 
is no objection to its being stated again, — my view, I 
say, is, Collides, that to he struck on tfa face unjustly 
"it most shameful, nor to have my bod// mutilated, nor 
in// purse cut; b/</ that to strike and cut //" ! and mine 
unjustly is more shameful nnd worse — and stealing, too, 

i This proposition is enforced by Socrates, with unanswerable reasoning 
am! illustration, throughout the Gorgias, which Cicero read diligently while 
studying at Athens (Dc Oratore, I. 11). 



THE TIM T. GB WM'l I; OF NATIONS. 65 

ami enslaving, and housebreaking, and, in general, doing 
any wrong whatever to me and mine, ismore shameful and 
worse — fur him who does the wrong than for me who suffer 
it. These things, which thus appeared to as in the for- 
mer part of this discussion, are secured and bound 
n if the expression be somewhal rustical) with iron 
and. adamantine arguments, as indeed they would seem to 
be; and unless you, or some one stronger than you, can 
break them, it is impossible for any one, saying other- 
wise than as I now say. to speak correctly: since, for 
my part, / always have the same thing to say, — that I 
know not how these things are, but that, of all whom I 
have ever discoursed with as now, no one is abh to say 
otherwise without being ridiculous." l 

Such is the wisdom of Socrates, as reported by Plato; 
and it lias found beautiful expression in the verse of an 
English poet, who says, — 

■• l >< ar as fir lom is, :m<l in my heart's 

Just estimation prized above all price, 
1 had much ratht r be my&i If the slave 

And wear the bonds than fasten them on him." ' 2 

The modem point of honor did uol obtain a place 
in warlike antiquity. Themistocles at Salamis, when 
threatened with a blow, did uot Bend a cartel to the 
Spartan commander. "Strike, bul hear," was the re- 
sponse of that firm nature, which fell thai true honor is 
gained only in the performance of duty. It was in 
the depths of modern barbarism, in the age of chivalry, 
that this sentiment shot up into wildest and rank- 
est fancies. Not a Btep was taken without it. NTo 
act without reference to the "bewitching duel.' - And 
every stage in the cmnhat, f'nmi the eercnmnial at its 

i Gorgias, Cap. I. XIV. 

a Cowper, The Task, Book II. w. 33 - 36. 



66 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

beginning to its deadly close, was measured by this fan- 
tastic law. Nobody forgets As You Like It, with its 
humorous picture of a quarrel in progress to a duel, 
through the seven degrees of Touchstone. Nothing 
more ridiculous, as nothing can be more disgusting, than 
the degradation in which this whole fantasy of honor 
had its origin, as fully appears from an authentic inci- 
dent in the life of its most brilliant representative. The 
Chevalier Bayard, cynosure of chivalry, the good knight 
without fear and without reproach, battling with the 
Spaniard Sehor Don Alonso de Soto Mayor, succeeded 
by a feint in striking him such a blow, that the weapon, 
despite the gorget, penetrated the throat four fingers 
deep. The wounded Spaniard grappled with his antago- 
nist until they botli rolled on the ground, when Bayard, 
thawing his dagger, and thrusting the point directly into 
the nostrils of his foe, exclaimed, " Senor Don Alonso, 
surrender, or you are a dead man ! " — a speech which ap- 
peared superfluous, as the second of the Spaniard cried 
out, "Senor Bayard, lie is dead already; you have con- 
quered." The, French knight "would gladly have given 
a hundred thousand crowns, if he had had them, to have 
vanquished him alive," says the Chronicle; but now 
falling upon his knees, he kissed the earth three times, 
then rose and drew his dead enemy from the field, 
saying to the second, " Senor Don Diego, have 1 done 
enough ?" To which the other piteously replied, "Too 
much, Senor l'.a\ ard, tor t he Jionor of Spain !" when the 
latter very generously presented him with the corpse, 
it being his right, by the haw of Honor, to dispose of it 
as he thought proper: an act highly commended by 
the chivalrous Brant6me, who thinks H difficult to say 
which did most honor to the faultless knight, — not 



THE TRUE GRANDEUB OF nai [ONS. 67 

dragging the dead body by a leg ignominiously from 
the field, like the carcass of a dog, or condescending to 
fighl while suffering under an ague ! ' 

Iii such a transaction, conferring 1 it upon the 

brightest Bon of chivalry, we learn the real character of 
an age whose departure lias heeii lamented with such 
touching, hut inappropriate eloquence. Thank (hid! 
the age of chivalry i> gone ; hut it cannot he allowed 
to prolong its fanaticism of honor into our day. Tins 
musl remain with the lances, swords, and daggers by 
which it was guarded, or appear, if i1 insists, only with 
its inseparable American companions, bowie-knife, pis- 
tol, and rifle. 

A true standard of conduct is found only in the 
highest civilization, with those two inspirations, justice 
and benevolence, — never in any barbarism, though af- 
fecting the semhlance of sensibility and refinement. 
But this standard, while governing the relations of the 
individual, must he recognized by nations also. Alas! 
alas! how long? "We still "wait that happy day, now 

inning to dawn, harbinger of infinite happiness be- 
yond, when nations, like men, shall confess that it is 
better to receive a wrong than do a wrong. 

5. There is still another influence stimulating War, 
and interfering with the natural attractions of Peace: I 
refei- to a selfish and exaggerated prejudice of country, 
leading to physical aggrandizemenl and political exal- 
tation at the expense of other countries, and in disre- 

1 La Tresjoyeose, Plaisante el Recreative Hystoire, compose'e par le Loyal 
Serviteur, dea I ' . I i inmphes el Prouesses du Bon Chevalier sans 

Paour el sans Reprouche, le Gentil Seigneur de Bayart, Chap. XXII.: 
Petitot, Collection Complete dea Me'moires relatifs ;i I'Histoire de Trance, 

Tom. XV. pp. 238-244. Braiitome, Discours sur les Duels: (Euvres, I "in. 
VIII. pp. 34, 35. 



G8 THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

gard of justice. Nursed by the literature of antiquity, 
we imbibe the sentiment of heathen patriotism. Ex- 
clusive love for the land of birth belonged to the re- 
ligion of Greece and Borne. This sentiment was ma- 
terial as well as exclusive. The Oracle directed the 
returning Roman to kiss his mother, and he kissed 
Mother Earth. Agamemnon, according to iEschylus, 
on regaining his home, after perilous separation for 
more than ten years at the siege of Troy, before ad- 
dressing family, friend, or countryman, salutes Argos : — 

" By your leave, lords, first Argos I salute." 

The schoolboy does not forget the victim of Verres, with 
the memorable cry which was to stay the descending 
fasces of the lictor, " I am a Roman citizen," — nor those 
other words echoing through the dark Past, " How sweet 
and becoming to die fur country !" Of little avail the 
nobler cry, "I am' a man," or the Christian ejaculation, 
swelling the soul, "How sweet and becoming to die 
for duty!" The beautiful genius of Cicero, instinct at 
times with truth almost divine, did not ascend to that 
heaven where it is taught that all mankind are neighbors 
and kindred. To the Love of universal man may he ap- 
plied those words by which the great Roman elevated 
his selfish patriol ism to \ irtue, when he said thai country 
alone embraced all the charities of all? Attach this ad- 
mired phrase to the single idea of country, and you see 
how contracted are its charities, compared with that 
world-wide circle where our neighbor is the suffering 

1 "Cari urn parentes, cari liberi, propinqui, familiares j sed omnes omni- 
um carilates patria mi'! complexa est." (De Offic, Lib. I. cap. 17.) It is 
curious to observe how Cicero puts aside that expression of tvu<> humanity 
which fell from Terence, " Humani nihil a me alienumputo." He says, u Eat 
enim difficilis cura rerun alienarum." Ibid., Lib. I. cap. :>. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 69 

man, though a1 the farthest pole. Such a Bentimenl 

would dry up those precious fountains now diffusing 
themselves in distant unenlightened lauds, from the Ley 
mountains of Greenland to the coral islands of the 
Pacific Sea 

It is the policy of rulers to encourage this exclusive 
patriotism, and here they axe aided by the examples 
of antiquity. I do not know that any one nation is 
permitted to reproach another with this selfishm 
All are selfish. Men are tan-lit to live, not for man- 
kin. 1, but only for a small portion of mankind. The 
pride, vanity, ambition, brutality even, which all rebuke 
in the individual, are accounted virtues, if displayed iu 
the name of country. Among us the sentiment is ac- 
tive, while it derives new force from the point with 
which it has been expressed. An officer of our navy, 
one of the heroes nurtured by War, whose name has 
been praised in churches, going beyond all Greek, all 
Roman example, exclaimed, "Our country, right or 
wrong" — a sentiment dethroning God and enthroning 
the Devil, whose flagitious character must be rebuked 
by every honest heart. How different was virtuous 

Andrew Fletcher, whose heroieal uprightness, amidst 
the trials of his time, has become immortal in the say- 
ing, that he "would readily lose his lite to si rrr his 
country, but would not do a base thing to save it." 1 
Better words, or more truly patriotic, were never uttered. 
"Our country, our whole country, and nothing but our 
country" are other delusive sounds, which, first tailing 
from the lips of an eminent American orator, are often 
painted on banners, and echoed by innumerable multi- 
tudes. Cold and dreary, narrow and selfish would be 

1 Character, prefixed to Political Works, p. viii. 



70 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

this life, if nothing but our country occupied the soul, — 
if tlif thoughts that wander through eternity, if the 
infinite affections of our nature, were restrained to that 
place where we find ourselves by the accident of birth. 

By a natural sentiment we incline to the spot where 
we were born, to the fields that witnessed the sports of 
childhood, to the seat of youthful studies, and to the 
institutions under which we have been trained. The 
finger of God writes all these things indelibly upon the 
heart of man, so that even in death he reverts with 
fondness to early associations, and longs for a draught 
of cold water from the bucket in his father's well. This 
sentiment is independent of reflection : for it begins be- 
fore reflection, grows with our growth, and strengthens 
with our strength. It is the same in all countries hav- 
ing the same degree of enlightenment, differing only 
according to enlightenment, under whose genial in- 
fluence it softens and refines. It is the strongest with 
those least enlightened. The wretched Hottentot never 
travels away from his melting sun ; the wretched Esqui- 
mau never travels away from his freezing cold; nor 
does either know or care for other lands. This is his 
patriotism. The same instinct belongs to animals. 
There is no beast not instinctively a patriot, cherish- 
ing his own country with all its traditions, which he 
guards inst inclively against allcomers. Thus again, in 
considering the origin oi' War, do we encounter the ani- 
mal in man. Bui as human nature is elevated, as the 
animal is subdued, that patriotism which is without rea- 
son shares the generous change and gradually loses its 
barbarous egotism. To the enlarged vision a. new world 
is disclosed, and we hegin to discern the distant moun- 
tain-peaks, all gilded by the beams of morning, reveal- 



T1IK TBUB GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 71 

ing that (it'll lias lint placed us alone on this earth, but 
that others, equally with ourselves, are children <>f his 
care. 

The curious spirit goes further, ami, while recognizing 
an inborn attachmenl to the place "1' birth, searches into 
the nature of the allegiance required. According to the 
old idea, still too prevalent, man is made for the State, 
not the State tor man. Far otherwise is the truth. The 
State is an artificial hotly, lor the security of the peo- 
ple. How constantly do we find in human history that 
the people are sacrificed lor the state, — to build the 
Human name, to secure for England the trident of the 
to carry abroad the conquering eagles of France! 
This is to barter the greater for the less,— to sacrifice 
humanity, embracing more even than country all the 
charities of ,>//, I'm' the sake of a mistaken grandeur. 

Not that I love country less, but Humanity more, do 
I now and here plead the cause of a higheT ami truer 
patriotism. 1 cannot forget that we are men by a more 
sai-red bond than we are citizens, — that we are children 
of a common Father more than we are Americans. 

Thus do seemine' diversities of nations — separated 
by accident of language, mountain, river, or sea — all 
disappear, and the multitudinous tribes of the globe 
stand forth as members of one vast Human Family, 
where strife is treason to Eeaven, and all war is nothing 
else than civil war. In vain restrict this odious term. 
importing so much of hon-or, to the dissensions of a 
single community. It belongs also to feuds between 
nations. The s.iul trembles aghast in the contempla- 
tion of fields drenched with fraternal gore, where the 
happiness of homes is shivered by neighbors, ami kins- 
man sinks beneath the steel nerved bv ;i kinsman's 



72 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

hand. This is civil war, accursed forever in the calen- 
dar of Time. In the faithful record of the future, rec- 
ognizing the True Grandeur of Nations, the Muse of 
History, inspired by a loftier justice and touched to finer 
sensibilities, will extend to Universal Man the sympa- 
thy now confined to country, and no war will be waged 
without arousing everlasting judgment. 

6. I might here pause, feeling that those who have 
accompanied me to this stage will be ready to join in 
condemnation of War, and to hail Peace as the only con- 
dition becoming the dignity of human nature, while it 
opens vistas of all kinds abundant with the most fruit- 
ful promises. But there is one other consideration, 
yielding to none in importance, — perhaps more impor- 
tant than all, being at once cause and effect, — the cause 
of strong prejudice in favor of "War, and the effect of 
this prejudice. I refer to Preparations for War in time 
of Peace. Here is an immense practical evil, requiring 
remedy. 1 n exposing its character too much care can- 
not be taken. 

1 shall lint dwell upon the fearful cost of War itself. 
That is present in the mountainous accumulations of 
debt, piled like Ossa upon Pelion, with which civili- 
zation is pressed to earth. According to the most recent 
tables, the public debt of European nations, so far as 
known, amounts to the terrific sum of $7,777,521,840, 
— all the growth of War! It is said that there are 
throughout these nations 17,000,000 paupers, or persons 
subsisting at the public expense, without contributing 
to its resources. If these millions of public debt, form- 
ing only a part of what has been wasted in War, could 



TIIK TRUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 7:'. 

be apportioned among these poor, it would give to each 
I fc50,- b --u in placing all above want, and aboul equal 
to the average wraith of an inhabitant of Massachu- 

The pnbKc debt of Great Britain in L842 reached to 
$3,827,833,102, the growth of War since 1G88. This 
amount is equal to two thirds of all the harvest of 
gold and silver yielded by Spanish America, including 
Mexico and Peru, from the discovery of our hemi- 
sphere by chri>t. i], her Columbus to the beginning of 
the presenl century, as calculated by Eumboldt. 1 it 
is much larger than the mass of all the precious metals 
constituting at this moment the circulating medium 
of the world. Sometimes it is rashly said, by those 
who have given little attention to the subject, thai 
all this expenditure has been widely distributed, and 
therefore beneficial to the people; but this apology for- 
gets that it has not been bestowed on any produc- 
tive industry or useful object. The magnitude of this 
waste appears by contrast. For instance, the aggre- 
gate capital of all the joint-stock companies in Eng- 
land of which there was any known record in L842, 
embracing canals, docks, bribes, insurance, banks, gas- 
lights, water, mines, railways, and other miscellaneous 
objects, was about $ 800,000,000, — all devoted to the 
welfare of the people, but how much less in amount 
than the War Debt! For the six years preceding 
1842, the average payment for interest on this debt 

was $141,645,157 annually. [f we add to this sum 
the further annual outlay of $66,780,817 for the army, 
navy, and ordnance, we shall have $208,425,974 as 
the annual tax of the English people, to pay for for- 

l Now Spain, Vol III. )i. 481. 
VOL. I. 4 



74 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

mer wars and prepare for new. During this same 
period, an annual appropriation of 824,858,442 was 
sufficient for the entire civil service. Thus War con- 
sumed ninety cents of every,- dollar pressed by heavy 
taxation from the English people. What fabulous mon- 
ster, what chimaera dire, ever raged with a maw so rav- 
enous ? The remaining ten cents sufficed to maintain 
the splendor of the throne, the administration of justice, 
and diplomatic relations with foreign powers, — in short, 
all the more legitimate objects of a nation. 1 

Thus much for the general cost of War. Let us now 
look exclusively at the Preparations for War in time of 
Peace. It is one of the miseries of War, that even in 
Peace its evils continue to be felt beyond any other 
by which suffering humanity is oppressed. If Bellona 
withdraws from the field, we only lose sight of her flam- 
in- torches; the baying of her dogs is heard on the 
mountains, and civilized man thinks to find protection 
from their sudden fury only by inclosing himself in the 
barbarous armor of battle. At this moment, the Chris- 
tian nations, worshipping a symbol of common brother- 
hood, occupy intrenched camps, with armed watch, to 
prevent surprise from each other. Recognizing War 
as Arbiter of Justice, they hold themselves perpetually 
ready tor the bloody umpirage. 

It is difficult, if not impossible, to arrive at any exact 
estimate of these Preparations, ranging under four dif- 
fered heads, — Standing Army, Navy, Fortifications, 
and Militia, or irregular troops. 

1 Here and in subsequent pages I have relied 'upon the Encyclopaedia 
Britannica, the Annua] Register, McCulloch's Commercial Dictionary, Lau- 
rie's Universal Geography, founded on the works of Malte-Brun and Balbi, 

and il alculations of Hon. William Jay, in War and Peace, p. 16, and 

in his Address before the Peace Society, pp. 28, 29. 



THE TRUE GBANDEUB OP NATIONS. 75 

The number of soldiers now affecting to keep the 
peace of European Christendom, as a Standing Army, 
without counting the Navy, is upwards of two millions: 
Borne estimates place it as high as three millions. The 
army of Great Britain, including the forces in India, 
exceeds 300,000 men ; thai of Prance, 350,000 ; thai of 
Russia, 7^0,001), and is reckoned by some as high as 
L,000,000; thai of Austria, 275,000; thai of Prussia, 
150,000. Taking the smaller number, and supposing 
these two millions to reipiire for their support an aver- 
annual sum of only $150 each, the result would 
be $300,000,000 for sustenance alone; and reckoning 
• me officer to ten soldiers, and allowing to each of the 
latter an English shilling a day, or $88.33 a year, for 
wages, and to the former an average annual salary of 
$500, we have for the pay of the whole no less than 
$258,994,000, or an appalling sum-total, for both suste- 
nance and pay, of 8558,994,000 a year. If the same cal- 
culation he made, supposing the force three millions, the 
sum-total will be $ 838,491,000 ! Bui to this enormous 
sum must be added another still more enormous, on 
account of loss sustained by the withdrawal of these 
hardy, healthy millions, in the bloom of life, from use- 
ful, productive labor. It is supposed that it costs an 
average sum of sr.no to rear a soldier, and thai tin- 
value of his labor, if devoted to useful objects, would 
be $150 a year. Therefore, in setting apart two mil- 
lions of men as soldiers, the Christian powers sustain 
a loss of $1,000,000,000 on accounl of training, 
and $300,000,000 on account of labor, in addition 
to the millions annually expended for sustenance and 
pay. So much for the Standing Army of Christian 
Europe in time of Pe 



76 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

Glance now at the Nari/. The Royal Navy of Great 
Britain consists at present of 557 ships ; but deducting 
such as are used for convict ships, floating chapels, and 
coal depots, the efticient Navy comprises 88 ships of the 
line, 109 frigates, L90 small frigates, corvettes, brigs, and 
cutters, including packets, 65 steamers of various sizes, 
3 troop-ships and yachts : in all, 455 ships. Of these, 
in 1839, 190 were in commission, carrying in all 4,202 
guns, with crews numbering 34,465 men. The Navy of 
France, though not comparable with that of England, 
is of vast force. By royal ordinance of 1st January, 
1837, it was fixed in time of peace at 40 ships of the line, 
50 frigates, 40 steamers, and 19 smaller vessels, with 
crews numbering, in 1839, 20,317 men. The Russian 
Navy is composed of two large fleets, — one in the Gulf 
of Finland, and the other in the Black Sea ; but the ex- 
act amount of their force is a subject of dispute among 
naval men and publicists. Some idea of the Navy may 
be derived from the number of hands. The crews of 
the Baltic amounted, in 1837, to not less than 30,800 
men, and those of the Black Sea to 19,800, or altogether 
50,600, — being nearly equal to those of England and 
France combined. The Austrian Navy comprised, in 
1837, 8 ships of the line, 8 frigates, 4 sloops, 6 brigs, 
7 schooners or galleys, and smaller vessels: the num- 
ber of men in its service, in 1839, was 4,547. The 
Navy of Denmark comprised, at the close of 1837, 7 
ships of the line, 7 frigates, 5 sloops, 6 brigs, :'> schoon- 
ers, 5 cutters, 58 gunboats, 6 gun-rafts, ami 3 bomb- 
vessels, requiring aboul 6, 500 men. The Navy of 
Sweden and Norway consisted recently of 238 gun- 
boats, 11 ships of the line, 8 frigates, 4 corvettes, and 
6 brigs, with several smaller vessels. The Navy of 



Tin: run: GB LNDEUB OF NATIONS. 77 

Greece has 32 ships of war, carrying L90 guns, with 
•_'. Km men. The Navy of Holland, in L839, had 8 
ships of the line. i'l frigates, L5 corvettes, 21 brigs, 
and 95 gunboats. Of the untold cost absorbed in 
these mighty Preparations it is impossible to form an 
accurate idea. Bui we may lament that means so 
gigantic an' applied by Christian Europe, in time of 
Peace, to the construction ami maintenance of such su- 
perfluous wooden walls. 

In tlir Fortifications and Arsenals of Europe, crown- 
ing every beight, commanding every valley, frowning 
over every plain ami every sea, wraith beyond calcu- 
lation has hem Mink. Who can tell the immense 
sum- expended in hollowing out the living reels "I' 
Gibraltar? Who can calculate the- cost of all the 
Preparations at Woolwich, its 27,000 cannon, and its 
small arms counted by hundreds of thousands ? France 
alone contains more than one hundred ami twenty for- 
tified places; ami it is supposed that the yet unfinished 
fortifications of Paris have cost upward of fifty millions 
of dollars. 

The cost of the J//////", or irregular troops, the Yeo- 
manry of England, the National Guard of Paris, and 
the Landwehr and Landsturm of Prussia, must add 
other incalculable sum- to these enormous amounts. 

Turn now to the United states, separated by a broad 
ocean from immediate contact with the Great Powers 
of Christendom, hound by treaties of amity and com- 
merce with all the nation- of the earth, connected with 
all by strong ties of mutual interest, and professin 
devotion to the principles of Peace. Are Treaties of 
Amity mere words? Are relation- of Commerce ami 
mutual intere-t mere things of a day '. Are professions 



78 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

of Peace vain ? Else why not repose in quiet, unvexed 
by Preparations for War ? 

Colossal as are European expenditures for these 
purposes, they are still greater among us in proportion 
to other expenses of the National Government. 

It appears that the average annual expenses of 
the National Government, for the six years ending 
1840, exclusive of payments on account of debt, were 
$26,474,892. Of this sum, the average appropriation 
each year for military and naval purposes amounted 
to 8 21,328,903, being eighty per cent. Yes, — of all 
the annual appropriations by the National Govern- 
ment, eighty cents in every dollar were applied in this 
unproductive manner. The remaining twenty cents suf- 
ficed to maintain the Government in all its branches, 
Executive, Legislative, and Judicial, — the administra- 
tion of justice, our relations with foreign nations, the 
post-office, and all the lighthouses, which, in happy, use- 
fid contrast with the forts, shed their cheerful signals 
over the rough waves beating upon our long and in- 
dented coast, from the Bay of Eundy to the mouth of 
the Mississippi. The relative expenditures of nations 
for Military Preparations in time of Peace, exclusive 
of payments on account of debts, when accurately un- 
derstood, must surprise the advocates of economy in 
our country. In proportion to the whole expenditure 
of Government, they are, in Austria, as 33 per cent; in 
France, as 38 per cent ; in Prussia, as 44 per cent ; in 
( iiv;ii livitain, as 74 per cent; in the United States, as 
80 per cnii :' 

i I have verified these results, but do little more than follow Judge Jay, 
who has illustrated tin- important poinl with his accustomed accuracy. — 
Address before the American Peace Society, p. 30. 



Tin: TBUE GBANDEUB OF NATIONS. 79 

To this stupendous waste may be added the still 
larger and equally superfluous exiiniscs of the Militia 
throughout the country, placed recently by a candid 
and able writer at $50,000,000 a year! 1 

By a table of the National expenditures, 2 exclusive of 
payments on account of the Public Debt, it appears, 
that, in fifty-fov/r years from the formation of our 
present Government, that is, from L789 down to 1843, 
$155,282,217 were expended for civil purposes, com- 
prehending the executive, the Legislative, the judiciary, 
the post-office, light-houses, and intercourse with foreign 
ernments. During this same period, $370,981,521 
were devoted to the Military establishment, and 
$ 169,707,214 to the Naval establishment, — the two 
forming an aggregate of $540,688,735. Deducting 
from this amount appropriations during three years 
of War, and we find that more than four hundred 
and sixty millions were absorbed by vain Preparations 
for War in time of Peace. Add to this amount a 
moderate sum for the expenses of the Militia during 
the same period, which, as we have seen, are placed 
at s." 1 1,000,000 a year, — for the past years we may 
take an average of $25,000,000, — and we have the 
enormous sum-total of 8 1,:;.~.ihiiiii.iiii<i piled upon the 
8400,00(1,000, the whole amounting to eighteen hun- 
dred and ten millions of dollars, a sum no1 easily con- 
ceived by the human faculties, sunk, under bhe -auc- 
tion of the National Government, in mere peaceful 
Preparations for War: almost twelve times as mud 
was dedicated by the National Government, during the 
same period, to all other purposes whatsoever. 

1 Jay, War arnl Peace, p. 18. 

2 Executive Document No. 15, Twenty-Eighth Congress, First Session, 
pp 1018-19. 



80 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

From this serried array of figures the mind instinc- 
tively recoils. If we examine them from a nearer point 
of view, and, selecting some particular item, compare it 
with the figures representing other interests in the com- 
munity, they will present a front still more dread. 

"Within cannon-range of this city stands an institu- 
tion of learning which was one of the earliest cares of 
our forefathers, the conscientious Puritans. Favored 
child in an age of trial and struggle, — carefully nursed 
through a period of hardship and anxiety, — endowed 
at that time by the oblations of men like Harvard, — sus- 
tained from its first foundation by the parental arm of the 
Commonwealth, by a constant succession of munificent 
bequests, and by the prayers of good men, — the Uni- 
versity at Cambridge now invites our homage, as the 
most ancient, most interesting, and most important seat 
of learning in the land, — possessing the oldest and 
most valuable library, — one of the largest museums 
of mineralogy and natural history, — with a School of 
Law which annually receives into its bosom more than 
one hundred and fifty sons from all parts of the Union, 
where they listen tn instruction from professors whose 
names are among the must, valuable possessions of the 
land, — also a School of Divinity, fount of true learning 
and piety, — also one of the largesl and most flourish- 
ing Schools of Medicine in the country, — and besides 
these, a general body of teachers, twenty-seven in num- 
ber, many of whose names help to keep the name of 
the country respectable in every part of the globe, 
where science, learning, and taste are cherished, — the 
whole presided over at this moment by a gentleman 
early distinguished in public life by unconquerable 
energy and masculine eloquence, at a later period by 



THE TRUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 81 

the unsurpassed ability with which he administered the 
affairs of our city, and uow, in a green old age, lull of 
years and honors, preparing to lay down his present 
high trust. 1 Such is Harvard University; and as one 
of the humblest of her children, happy in the memories 
of a youth uurtured in her classic retreats, I cannot 
allude to her without an expression of filial affection 
and respect. 

It appears from the last Report of the Treasurer, 
that tht' whole available property of the University, 
the various accumulation of more than two centuries 
terosity, amounts to $ 703,1 75. 

Change the *<<■]]>•, and cast your eyes upon another 
object. There now swings idly at her moorings in this 
harbor a ship of the line, the Ohio, carrying ninety 
guns, finished as late as 183G at an expense of 
$ "47,888, — repaired only two years afterwards, in 
1838, for 8233,012,— with an armament which has 
cost 853,945, — making an aggregate of $834*845, 
as the actual outlay at this moment for that single 
ship, 2 — more than 8100,000 beyond all the available 
wealth of the richest and most ancient seat of learning 
in the land: Choose ye, my fellow-citizens of a Chris- 
tian state, between the two caskets, — that wherein is 
the loveliness of truth, or that which contains the 
carrion death. 

I refer to the Ohio because this ship happens t" be 
in our waters; but I do not take the strongesl i 
afforded by our Navy. Other ships have absorbed 
•r sums. The expense of the Delaware, in 1842, 
had reached $ 1,051,000. 

1 Hon. Josiah Quincy. 

2 Executive Document Xo. 132, Twenty-Seventh Congrc?=, Tliinl Session. 

4* F 



82 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

Pursue the comparison still further. The expendi- 
tures of the University during the last year, for the 
general purposes of the College, the instruction of the 
Undergraduates, and for the Schools of Law and Divin- 
ity, amounted to 847,935. The cost of the Ohio for 
one year of service, in salaries, wages, and provisions, 
is S 220,000, — being $ 172,000 above the annual expen- 
ditures of the University, and more than four times as 
much as those expenditures. In other words, for the 
annual sum lavished on a single ship of the line, four 
institutions like Harvard University might be sup- 
ported. 

Furthermore, the pay of the Captain of a ship like 
the Ohio is s 4,500, when in service, — $ 3,500, when on 
leave of absence, or off duty. The salary of the Presi- 
dent of Harvard University is $ 2,235, without leave 
of absence, and never (iff duty. 

If the large endowments of Harvard University are 
dwarfed by comparison with a single ship of the line, 
how must it be with other institutions of learning and 
beneficence, less favored by the bounty of many genera- 
tions ? The average cost of a sloop of war is 8315,000, — 
more, probably, than all the endowments of those twin 
stars of learning in the Western part of Massachusetts, 
the Colleges al Williamstown and Amherst, and of that 
single star in the East, the guide to many ingenuous 
youth, the Seminary at Andover. The yearly expense 
of a sloop of war in service is about 850,000, — more 
than the annual expenditures of these three institutions 
combined. 

I mighl press the comparison with other institutions 
of beneficence,- with our annual appropriations for 
the Blind, that noble ami successful charity which 



Tin: TBUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 83 

sheds true lustra upon the Commonwealth, amount- 
ing to $12,000] and for the Insane, another charity 
dear to humanity, amounting to $27,844. 

Take all the institutions of Learning and Beneficence, 
tin' crown jewels of the Commonwealth, Bchools, col- 
leges, hospitals, asylum^, ami tin- sums by which they 
have been purchased and preserved arc trivial and 
beggarly, compared with the treasures squandered with- 
in the borders of Massachusetts in vain Preparations 
for War, — upon the Navy Yard at Charlestown, with 
its stores on hand, costing $ 4,741,000, — the fortifi- 
cations in the harbors of Massachusetts, where untold 
sums ar>' already sunk, and it is now proposed to sink 
$ 3,875,000 more, 1 — ami the Arsenal at Springfield, con- 
taining, in 1842, 175,118 muskets, valued al $2,099,! 
and maintained by an annual appropriation of $ 200,000, 
whose highest value will ever be, in the judgment of all 
lovers <»f truth, that- it inspired a ] m which in in- 
fluence will lie mightier than a battle, ami will endure 
when arsenals ami fortifications have crumbled to earth. 
Some of the verses of this Psalm of Peace may relieve 
the detail of statistics, while they happily blend with 
my argument 

" Were half the power that fill- the world with terror, 
We ■ half the wealth bestowed <>:i camps and courts, 
Given to redeem the human mind from error, 
There were no need of arsenals or forts: 

"The warrior's name would he a name abhorred, 
And every nation that should lift again 
I" ind against :i brother on it- forehead 
Would wear forevermore the curse of C tin." s 

1 Report of Secretary of War, Senate Document No. 2, Twenty-Seventh 
Com: . - ! Session, — where we are asked t.> invest in a general sys- 
tem of land defences 8 51 .>;::. 

- Executive Document No. 3, Twenty-Seventh Congress, Third Si --i^n. 

3 Longfellow, The Arsenal at Springfield. 



84 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

Turn now to a high and peculiar interest of the 
nation, the administration of justice. Perhaps no part 
of our system is regarded with more pride and confi- 
dence, especially by the enlightened sense of the coun- 
try. To this, indeed, all other concerns of Government, 
with all ils complications of machinery, are in a man- 
ner subordinate, since it is for the sake of justice that 
men come together in communities and establish laws. 
What part of the Government can compare in impor- 
tance witli the National Judiciary, that great balance- 
wheel of the Constitution, controlling the relations of 
the several States to each other, the legislation of Con- 
gress and of the States, besides private interests to an 
incalculable amount ? Nor can the citizen who discerns 
the true glory of his country fail to recognize in the im- 
mortal judgments of Marshall, now r departed, and of 
Storv, who is still spared to us — senis in caelum redeai ! 
— a higher claim to admiration and gratitude than can 
be found in any triumph of battle. The expenses of 
this great department under the National Govern- 
ment, in Isti', embracing the cost of court-houses, the 
salaries of judges, the pay of juries, and of all the law 
officers throughout the United States, in short, all the 
outlay by which justice, according to the requirement 
of Magna Charta, is carried to every man's door, 
amounted to $560,990, — a larger sum than is usually 
appropriated for this purpose, but how insignificant, 
compared with the cormorant demands of Army and 
Navy ! 

Let me allude to one more curiosity of waste. By a 
calculation founded on the expenses of the Navy it 
appears that the average cost of each gun carried over 
the ocean for one year amounts to about fifteen thou- 



THE TRUE GRANDE! B OF NATIONS. 85 

sand dollars, — a sum sufficient to maintain ten or even 
twenty professors of Colleges, and equal to the salaries 
of all the Judges of the Supreme Courl of Massachu- 
setts and the I rOA ernor combined .' 

Such are illustrations of thai tax which nations con- 
stituting the great Federation of Civilization, including 
our own country, impose on the people, in time of pro- 
found peace, for qo permanent productive work, for no 
institution of Learning, for qo gentle charity, for no pur- 
pose of good. Wearily climbing from expenditure to 
expenditure, from waste to waste, we seem to pass be- 
yond the region of ordinary measurement ; Alps on 
Alps arise, on whose crowning heights of everlasting 
cold, far above the habitations of man. where do green 
thing lives, where no creature draws breath, we behold 
the sharp, icy, flashing -lacier of War. 

In the contemplation of this spectacle the soul swells 
with alternate despair and hope: with despair, at the 
thought of such wealth, capable of such service to Hu- 
manity, not merely wasted, but bestowed to perpetuate 

Hate; with hope, as the Messed vision arises of all 

these incalculable means secured to purposes of Pei 
The whole world Labors with poverty and distress; and 
the painful question occurs in Europe more than heir, 
"What shall become of the poor, — the increasing 
Standing Army of the poor ? Could the voice that now 
addresses you penetrate those distant councils, or coun- 
cils nearer home, it would saw Disband your Standing 
Annies of soldiers, employ your Navies in peaceful and 
enriching commerce, abandon Fortifications and Arse- 
nals, or dedicate them to works of Beneficence, as the 
statue of Jupiter Capitolinus was changed to the in 



8G THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

of a Christian saint ; in fine, utterly renounce the pres- 
ent incongruous system of Armed Peace. 

That I may not seem to accept this conclusion too 
hastily, at least as regards our own country, I shall con- 
sider the asserted usefulness of the national arma- 
ments, — and then expose the fallacy, at least in the 
present age and among Christian nations, of the maxim, 
that in time of Peace we must prepare for War. 

For what use is the Stand in;/ Ann// of the United 
States ? For many generations it has been a principle 
of freedom to avoid a standing army ; and one of the 
complaints in the Declaration of Independence was, 
that George the Third had quartered large bodies, of 
troops in the Colonies. For the first years after the 
adoption of the National Constitution, during our period 
of weakness, before our power was assured, before our 
name had become respected in the family of nations, 
under the administration of Washington, a small sum 
was ample for the military establishment of the United 
States. It was at a later day that the country, touched 
by martial insanity, abandoned the true economy of a 
Republic, and, in imitation of monarchical powers, 
lavished means, grudged to Peace, in vain preparation 
for War. It may now be said of our Army, as I tunning 
said of the influence of the Crown, it lias increased, is 
increasing, and ought to be diminished. At this mo- 
ment there are in the country more than sixty milita- 
ry posts. For any of these it would be difficult to pre- 
sent ;i reasonable apology, — unless, perhaps, on some 
distant Indian frontier. Of what use is the detach- 
ment of the Second Artillery at the quiet town of New 
London, in Connecticut? Of what use is the detach- 



Tin: tkii: GRANDKUB OF NATIONS. S7 

ment of the Firsl Artillery in that pleasant resort of 
fashion, Newporl ( By exhilarating music and showy 
parade they may amuse an idle hour; bul is it aot 
equally true that emotions of a different character will 
be aroused in thoughtful bosoms % He must have 
Lost something of sensibility to the dignity of human 
nature who can observe, without at least a passing 
regret, all the details di' discipline — drill, marching, 
i ountermarching — which till the lite of the soldier, and 
prepare him to become the rude, inanimate part of that 
machine to which an army is likened by the great liv- 
ing master of the An of War. 1 And this sensibility 
may he more disturbed by the spectacle of ingenuous 
youth, in chosen numbers, under the auspices of the 
Government, amidsl the bewitching scenery of West 
Point, painfully trained to these same exercises,- — at a 
cost to the country, since the establishment of this 
Academy, of above four millions of dollars. 

In Europe, Standing Armies are supposed to he 
in eded in support of ( rovernment ; hut this excuse can- 
not prevail here. The monarchs of the OW World, like 
the chiefs of the ancient German tribes, are upborne on 
the shields of the soldiery. Happily, with us, Govern- 
ment needs no janizaries. The hearts of the people are 
a sufficient support. 

I hear a voice from some defender of this abuse, some 
upholder of this "rotten borough," crying, The Army is 
needed tor defence! As well might you say that the 
shadow is needed for defence. For what is the Army 
of the United States, hut the feeble shadow of the Amer- 
ican people '. /// placing theArmyon its present footing, 
so small in numbers, compared with the forces of great 

Duke cf Wellington. 



88 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

European States, our Government tacitly admits its super- 
fluousness for defence. It only remains to declare that 
the country will repose in the consciousness of right, 
without the extravagance of soldiers, unproductive con- 
sumers of the fruits of the earth, who might do the 
country good service in the various departments of 
useful industry. 

For wliat use is the Navy of the United States ? 
The annual expense of our Navy, during recent years, 
has been upwards of six millions of dollars. For what 
purpose ? Not for the apprehension of pirates, since 
frigates and ships of the line are of too great bulk for 
this service. Not for the suppression of the Slave 
Trade ; for, under the stipulations with Great Britain, 
we employ only eighty guns in this holy alliance. Not 
to protect our coasts ; for all agree that our few ships 
would form an unavailing defence against any serious 
attack. Not for these purposes, you admit ; but for the 
protection of our Navigation. This is not the occasion 
for minute estimates. Suffice it to say, that an intelli- 
gent merchant, extensively engaged in commerce for the 
last twenty years, and who speaks, therefore, with the 
authority of knowledge, has demonstrated, in a tract of 
perfect clearness, 1 thai the annual profits of the whole 
mercantile marine of the country do not equal the an- 
nual expenditure of our Navy. Admitting the profit 
of a merchant ship to be four thousand dollars a year, 
which is a large allowance, it will take the earnings of 
one hundred ships to build and employ for one year a 
single sloop of war, of one hundred and fifty ships to 
build and employ a frigate, and of nearly three hundred 

1 I refer to tlie pamphlet of S. E. Coues, " United States Navy: What is 
r I se? " 



Till: TRUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 89 

ships to build and employ a ship of the line. Thus 
more than live hundred ships must do a profitable 
business to earn a sufficienl sum for the support of 
this little hVet. Still further, taking a received esti- 
mate putting the mercantile marine of the United St 
at forty millions of dollars, we find that it is onlj a 
little more than six times the annual cost of the Navy ; 
so that this interest is protected at a charge of more than 
fifteen per cent of its whole value! Protection at such 
price is aoi less ruinous than one of Pyrrhus's victories. 

It is to the Navy as an unnecessary arm of national 
defi qci , and part of the War establishment, that 1 con- 
fine my objection. So far as it is required lor science, 
or for the police of the seas, — to scour them of pirates, 
and, above all, to defeat the hateful traffic in human 
flesh, — it is a tit engine of ( rovernment, and cannot lie 
obnoxious as a portion of the machinery of War. Hut, 
surely, a most costly navy to protect navigation in time 
of Peace against assaults from civilized nations is ab- 
surdly superfluous. The lice cities of Hamburg and 
Bremen, survivors of the powerful Hanseatic League, 
with a commerce whitening the most distant seas, are 
without a single ship of war. Following this prudent 
example, the United states might he willing to abandon 
an institution already become a vain and expensive 
toy. 

For flint use are the Fortifications of the United 
States? AVe have already seen the enormous sums 
locked in the odious mortmain of their everlasting 
masonry. Like the Pyramids, they seem by mass and 
solidity to defy Time. Xor.au I doubt that hereafter, 
like these same monuments, they will he looked upon 
with wmider, as the types of an extinct superstition, uot 



90 THE TRIT. GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

less degrading than that of Ancient Egypt. Under the 
pretence of saving the country from conquest and blood- 
shed they are reared. But whence the danger ? On 
what side ? What people to fear ? No civilized na- 
tion threatens our borders with rapine or trespass. 
None will. Nor, in the existing state of civilization, 
and under existing International Law, is it possible to 
suppose any war with such a nation, unless, renoun- 
cing the peaceful Tribunal of Arbitration, we volun- 
tarily appeal to Trial by Battle. The fortifications 
might be of service then. But perhaps they would 
invite the attack they might be inadequate to defeat. 
According to a modern rule, illustrated with admirable 
ability in the diplomatic correspondence of Mr. Web- 
ster, non-combatants and their property on land are 
not molested. So firmly did the Duke of Wellington 
art upon this rule, that, throughout the revengeful cam- 
paigns of Spain, and afterwards entering France, Hushed 
with the victory of Waterloo, he directed his army to 
pay for all provisions, even the forage of their horses. 
War is carried on against public property, — against 
fortifications, navy-yards, <nnl arsenals. If these do not 
exist, where is its aliment, where the fuel for the 
flame ? Paradoxical as it seems, and disparaging to the 
whole trade of War, it may be proper to inquire, wheth- 
er, according to acknowledged laws, now governing this 
bloody arbitrament, every new fortification and every 
additional gun in our harbor is not less a safeguard than 
a danger. Do they not draw the lightning of battle 
upon our home-,, without, alas ! any conductor to hurry 
its terrors innocently beneath the concealing bosom of 
the earth ? 

For what use is the Militia of the United States? 



THE TRUE GBANDE1 B OF V\l [ONS. 91 

This immense system spreads, with innumerable Buck- 
ers, over the whole country, draining its best life-blood, 
the unboughl energies of our youth. The same painful 
discipline which we observe in the soldier absorbs their 
time, though to a less degree than in the Regular Army. 
Theirs also is the savage pomp of War. We read with 
astonishment of the painted flesh and uncouth vest- 
ments of our progenitors, the ancient Britons. But tint 
generation will come, that must regard with equal won- 
der the pictures of their ancestors closely dressed in 
padded and well-buttoned coats of blue " besmeared 
with gold," surmounted by a huge mountain-cap of 
»gy bear-skin, and with a barbarous device, typical 
of brute force, a tiger, painted on oil-skin tied with 
leather to their hacks! In the streets of Pisa the 
galley-slaves are compelled to wear dresses stamped 
with the name of the crime for which they arc suffering 
punishment, — as theft, robbery, murder. Is it nut a 
little strange that Christians, living in a land "where 
bells have tolled to church," should voluntarily adopt 
devices which, if they have any meaning, recognize 
the example of beasts as worthy of imitation by man '. 

The general considerations belonging to Preparations 
for War illustrate the inanity of the Militia for pur- 
poses of nut',,,, tnl defence. I do not know, indeed, that 
it is now strongly urged on this ground. It is ofteneT 
approved as an important part of the police. I would 
not undervalue the advantage of an active, efficient, 
ever-wakeful police ; and I believe that such a police 
has been long required. Hut the Militia, where youth 
and character are without the strength of experience, is 
inadequate for this purpose. No person who ha -■■en 
this arm of the police in an actual riot can hesitate in 



92 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS.' 

this judgment. A very small portion of the means 
absorbed by the Militia would provide a substantial 
police, competent to all the domestic emergencies of 
disorder and violence. The city of Boston has discarded 
a Fire Department composed of accidental volunteers. 
Why not do the same with the police, and set another 
example to the country '. 

I am well aware that efforts to reduce the Militia 
are encountered by some of the dearest prejudices of the 
common mind, — not only by the War Spirit, but by 
that other, which first animates childhood, and, at a 
later day, " children of a larger growth," inviting to 
finery of dress and parade, — the same which fantasti- 
cally bedecks the dusky feather-cinctured chief of the 
soft regions warmed by the tropical sun, — which in- 
serts a ring in the nose of the North American Indian, 
— which slits the ears of the Australian savage, and 
tattoos the New Zealand cannibal. 

Such arc; the national armaments, in their true char- 
acter and value. Thus far I have regarded them in 
the plainest light of ordinary worldly economy, without 
reference to those higher considerations, drawn from 
the nature and history of man and the truths of Chris- 
tianity, which pronounce them vain. It is grateful to 
know, that, though having yet the support of what 
Jeremy Taylor calls " popular noises," the other more 
economical, more humane, more wise, more Christian 
system Ls daily commending itself to good people. On 
its all the virtues that truly elevate a state 

Economy, sick of pygmy efforts to stanch the smallest 
fountain and rill of exuberant expenditure, pleads that 
here is a measureless, fathomless, endless river, an 



THE TRUE GBANDEUB OF NATl 

Amazon of waste, rolling ita prodigal waters turbidly, 
ruinously, hat. 'fully, to the sea. It chides us with 
unnatural inconsistency, when we strain at a little 
twine and paper, and swallow the monstrous cables 
and armaments of War. Humanity pleads for the 
surpassing interests of Knowledge and Benevolence, 
from which such mighty means arc withdrawn. Wis- 
dom frown- on these Preparations, as nursing senti- 
ments inconsistent with Peace; Christianity calmly 
rebukes the spirit in which they have their origin, as 
of Little faith, and treacherous to her high behests; 
while History, exhibiting the sure, though gradual, 
Progress of Man, points with unerring finger to that 
destiny of True Grandeur, when nations, like individu- 
disowning War as a proper Arbiter of Justice, shall 
abandon the oppressive apparatus of Armies, Navies, 
and Fortifications, by which it is waged. 

Before considering the familiar injunction, /// time of 
/'■ >< prepare for War, I hope I shall not seem to de- 
scend from the proper sphere of this discussion, it 1 
refer to the parade of barbarous mottoes, and of emblems 
from beasts, as another impediment to the proper ap- 
preciation of these Preparations. These mottoes and 
emblems, prompting to War, are obtruded on the very 
ensigns of power and honor, and, eareless of their dis- 
litable import, men learn to regard them with 
patriotic pride. Tn the armorial bearings of nations 
and individuals, beasts and birds of prey are the 
emplars of True Grandeur. The lion appears on the 
flag of England; the leopard on the flag of Scotland; 
a double-headed eagle spread- its wings on the imperial 
standard of Austria, and again on that of Russia ; while 



94 THE TRUE GUANDEUlt 01" NATIONS. 

a single-headed eagle was adopted on the Napoleonic 
seal, and thus far the same single-headed bird is enough 
for Prussia. The pennons of knights, after exhausting 
the known kingdom of Nature, were disfigured by 
imaginary and impossible monsters, griffins, hippogriffs, 
unicorns, all intended to represent the exaggeration of 
brute force. The people of Massachusetts unconsciously 
adopt this early standard. The escutcheon used as the 
seal of the State has an unfortunate combination, to 
which I refer briefly by way of example. On that part 
in the language of heraldry termed the shield stands 
an Indian with a how in his hand, — certainly no 
agreeable memento, except to those who find honor in 
the disgraceful wars where our lathers robbed and 
murdered King Philip of Pokanoket, and his tribe, 
rightful possessors of the soil. The crest is a raised 
arm holding a dravm sabre in a threatening attitude, — 
being precisely the emblem once borne on the flag of 
Algiers. The scroll, or legend, is the latter of two 
favorite verses, in modern Latin, which arc not traced 
to any origin more remote than Algernon Sidney, by 
whom they were inscribed in an album at Copen- 
hagen : — 

" Manus haec inimica tyrannis 
JTw.se petit placiclam sub libertait quietem." 1 

l The Earl of Leicester, father of Sidney, in an anxious letter, August 30, 
icon, wrifes his son : " It is said that the University of Copenhagen brought 
their Album unto you, desiring y<-*\ to write something therein, and Hint you 
did sciibere in Alba these words [ etting forth the verses], and put your 
name to it"; and then he add-, " This cannot but l>e publicly known, if it 

ue Either yon must live i:i exile or very privately here, and 

ips not safely/' The restoration of Charles the Second had just taken 

| y, Memoirs of i Sidney, pp. C4, 32:>-. n ,.r>.) Lord 

M -worth, in a work which first appeared in 1694, mentions the ver 

written by Sidney in " the Book of Mottoes in the King's Library," and then 

tells the story, that the French Ambassador, who did not know a word of 



Tin: Ti;ri: GBANDETJB OF NATIONS. 95 

With singular unanimity, the Legislature of M. 
chusetts has expressed an earnesl desire for the i ~tal>- 
lishment of a High Courl of Nations to adjudge inter- 
national controversies, and thus supersede the Arbitra- 
menl of War. It would be an act of moral dignity 
consistent with these professions, and becoming the 
character it vaunts before the world, if it abandoned 
Hie bellicose escutcheon, — at least, that Algerine em- 
blem, lit only for corsairs, if not also the Latin motto 
with its menace of the sword, [f a Latin substi- 
tute for the latter be ueeded, it ought be those words 
of Virgil, " Pad&qut Imponere morem," 1 or that sen- 
tence of noble truth from Cicero, "Sine summa justitia 
rempublicam geri nullo modo posse": 2 tin' first a hom- 
to Peace, and the second a consecration to Justice. 
Where such a spirit prevailed, there would he little 
occasion to consider the question of War Prepara- 
tions. 

M -^achusetts is not alone in the bellicose anachro- 
nism of her banner. The nation is in the same cate- 
gory. Our fathers would have hesitated Ion- before 
spting the eagle for the national escutcheon, had 
they recalled the. pungent words of Erasmus on this 
most unrepublican bird. " Let any physiognomist, aot 
a blunderer in his trade," says this most learned 
scholar, "consider the look and features of an eagle, 
those rapacious and wicked eyes, that menacing curve of 
the beak, those cruel cheeks, that stern front, — will he 

Latin, 0:1 learning their meaning, tore them from the book, as a libel on the 
Fre:ic!i government, and its influence in Denmark. (Moles worth, Account 
of Denmark, Preface.) The inference from this narrative would seem to be 
that the verses were by Sidney himself. 

1 fineid, VI 52. 

2 De Kcpublica, Lib. II. cap. 43. 



96 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

not at once recognize the image of a l/'/i;/, a magnificent 
and majestic king? Add to these a dark, ill-omened 
color, an impleading, dreadful, appalling voice, and that 
threatening scream at which every kind of animal trem- 
bles." Proceeding with his indictment, he describes 
the eagle in old age as satisfied with nothing but blood, 
with which he prolongs his hateful life, the upper man- 
dible growing so that he cannot feed on flesh, while the 
natural rapacity continues, — all of which typifies the 
wicked prince. But the scholar becomes orator, when, 
after mentioning that there are innumerable species of 
birds, some admirable for richness of plumage, some 
remarkable for snowy whiteness, some shining with 
befitting blackness, some pre-eminent in bodily stature, 
some notable for fecundity, some grateful at the rich 
banquet, some pleasant from loquacity, some captivating 
in song, some distinguished for courage, some created 
for the entertainment of man, — be proceeds to say: 
"Of all birds, the eagle alone has seemed to wise men 
the apt type of royalty: not beautiful, not musical, not 
fit for food, — but carnivorous, ravenous, plundering, 
destroying, fighting, solitary, hateful to all, the curse 
of all, and though able to do the greatest harm, yet 
wishing to do more than he can." 1 Erasmus, who says 
this and much more, is no mean authority. Brightest 
and best among the scholars who illustrated the modern 
revival of letters, loving peace, and detesting kings, he 
acquired a cpntemporary power and fame such as letters 
never bestowed before, if since, — at least until Voltaire, 
kindred in versatile genius, mounted the throne. In 
all the homage profusely offered to the latter there was 

1 Erasmi Adagia, Chil. III. Out. VII. Prov. 1: Scnrabceus aquilam qucerit. 
Ilallam, Literature of Europe, Part I. ch. 4. sec. 43, 44. 



Till'. TBUE GEANDEUK OF NATIONS. '.'7 

nothing Btronger than thai of Luther to Erasmus, when 
the greal Reformer asked, "Who is the man whose bouI 
Erasmus does nol occupy, whom Erasmus does nol in- 
struct, over whom Erasmus does nol reign '." II is face 
is still familiar from the devotion of two great artists, 
Albert Diirer and Hans Eolbein, each of whom has Lefl 
to us his portrait, — while he is commemorated by a 
bronze statue in Rotterdam, his birthplace, and by a 
monument in the ancient cathedral at Basel, where 
lie died. It is this renowned scholar who castigates 
our eagle. Doubtless for fighting qualities this royal 
bird was transferred to the coin and seal of a Republic. 
His presence there shows the spiril which unconsciously 
prevailed] and this sim r picsciicc, lay-iiml all ([uestion, 
exercises a certain influence, especially with the young, 
nursing a pride in that beak and those pounces which 
arc the menace of War. 

The maxim, In time "J' Peaa prepare fur War} is 
transmitted from distant ages, when brute force was 
the general law. It is the terrible inheritance which 
painfully reminds present generations of their connec- 
tion with the Past. It belongs to the dogmas of bar- 
barism. It is tin- companion of harsh, tyrannical rules 
by which the happiness of the many is offered up to 
tin- few. It is the chiM uf suspicion, ami the forerun- 

1 If countenance were needed in thus exposing a pernicious maxim, I 
might find it in the German philosopher Kant, whose work on Perpetual 
Itaace treats it with very little respect (Kant, Sammtliche Werke, Band 
VII.. Zum F.uiijtn l'rk'kn, § 1.) Since this Oration, Sir Robert Peel and 
the Karl of Aberdeen, each Prime Minister of England, and practically con- 
versant with the question, have L'iv.ai their valuable testimony in the same 
direction. Life ha- it- surprises; and I confess one in my own, when the 
latter, in conversation mi this maxim, most kindly thanked me for what I 
had -aid against it. 

VOL. I. 5 o 



98 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

ner of violence. Having in its favor almost uninter- 
rupted usage, it possesses a hold on popular opinion not 
easily unloosed. And yet no conscientious man can 
fail, on careful observation, to detect its mischievous 
fallacy, — at least among Christian nations in the present 
age, — a fallacy the most costly the world has wit- 
nessed, dooming nations to annual tribute in com- 
parison with which the extortions of conquest are as 
the widow's mite. So true is what Rousseau said, and 
Guizot has since repeated, that "a bad principle is far 
worse than a bad fact"; for the operations of the 
latter are finite, while those of the former are infi- 
nite. / 

I speak of this principle with earnestness; for I/ij 
believe it erroneous and false, founded in ignorance I 
and wrong, unworthy of civilization, and disgraceful to 
Christians. I call it a principle; but it is a mere pre- 
judice, — sustained by vulgar example only, and not by 
enlightened truth, — obeying which, we imitate the early 
mariners, who, steering from headland to headland, 
hugged the shore, unwilling to venture upon the broad 
ocean, witli the luminaries of heaven for their guide. 
If not yet discerned in its true character, it is because 
the clear light of truth is discolored and refracted by an 
atmosphere where the cloud of War covers all. 

Dismissing the actual usage on the one side, and con- 
siderations of economy on the other, I would regard 
these Preparations in the simple light of reason, in a 
just appreciation of the nature of man, and in the in- 
junctions of the highest truth. Our conclusion will 
lie very easy. They are twice pernicious, and whoso 
would vindicate them must satisfactorily answer these 
two objections: first, that the)- inflame the people, ex- 



THE TRUE GBANDEUB OF Nations. 99 

citing to deeds of violence, otherwise alien to the mind; 
and, secondly, that, having their origin in the Low motives 
of distrust and hate, ine\ Ltably, by a sure law of the hu- 
man mind, they excite to corresponding action in other 
nations. Thus, in fact, arc they promoters of War, 
rather than preservt rs of Peace. 

In illustration of the jirst objection, it will occur at 
once t" every inquirer thai the possession of power is 
in itself dangerous, tempting the purest: ami highest, 
ami too rarely enjoyed without abuse. Nor is the 
power to employ force in War an exception. Nations 
possessing the greatesl armaments are the most bellige- 
rent It is the feebler powers which enjoy eras <>t' 
Peace. Throughout more than seven hundred years of 
Roman history resounds the din of War, with only two 
short lulls of Peace ; ami in modern times this din 1ms 
been echoed from France. But Switzerland has had no 
din. Less prepared, this Republic had less incentive to 
War. Not only in nations do we find this law. It ap- 
plies to individuals also. The same din which resounded 
in Rome and was echoed from France has filled common 
life, ami from the same cause. The wearing of arms has 
been a provocat ive, too often exciting, as it furnished the 
weapon of strife. The odious system of private quar- 
rels, with altercation and hostile meetings even in the 
street, disgracing the social life of modern Europe, con- 
tinued with this habit This was its origin. But who 
can measure the extent of its influence? Dead bodies 
stretched on the pavements, and vacant chairs at home. 
■were the contemporary witnesses. If death was hasty 
and unpremeditated, it was only according to the law 
of such encounter. Poets and authors, wearing arms, 
were exposed to the rude chances. The dramatist .Mar- 



100 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

lowe, in some respects almost Shakespearian, " renowned 
for his rare art and wit," perished ignominiously under 
the weapon of a vulgar adversary ; and Savage, whose 
genius and misfortune inspired the friendship and praise 
of Samuel Johnson, was tried at the Old Bailey fur 
murder committed in a sudden broil. Nothing of this 
could have occurred without the habit of wearing arms, 
which was a fashion. Out of this came the Dunn- of 
Death. 

This pernicious influence is illustrated by Judge Jay 
with admirable plainness. He shows the individual as 
an example to nations. Listen, a moment, to what lie 
says so well. "The expert swordsman, the practised 
marksman, is ever more ready to engage in personal 
combats than the man who is unaccustomed to the use of 
deadly weapons. In those portions of our country where 
it is supposed essential to personal safety to go armed 
with pistols and bowie-knives mortal affrays are so fre- 
quent as to excite but little attention, and to secure, with 
exceedingly rare exceptions, perfect impunity to the 
murderer; whereas at the North and East, where we are 
unprovided with such facilities for taking life, compara- 
tively lew murders of the kind are perpetrated. We 
might, indeed, safely submit the decision of the princi- 
ple we are discussing to the calculations of pecuniary 
interest. Let two men, equal in age and health, apply 
for an insurance on their lives, — one known to he ever 
armed to defend his honor and his life against ever) 
assailant, and the other a meek, unresisting Quaker: can 
w,. doubt for a moment which of these men would he 
deemed by an Insurance Company most likely to reach 
a good old age '. " l 

i A'M ' bi " ill' 1 American Peace Society, pp. 23,24. 



THE Ti;n: GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 1"1 

With this practicaJ statement and Its strong sense I 
leave this objection in War Preparations, adding a sin- 
gle supplementary remark, — Whal is g 1 for the in- 
dividual is good for nations. 

The second objection, though differenl in character, is 
qoI less operative. It is founded on that law of hu- 
man nature according to which the very hate or dis- 
trust to which these Preparations testify excites in 
others a corresponding sentiment. This law is general 
and fundamental. Though rarely recognized by nations 
as a rule of conduct, it was never withoul its influence 
on individuals. Endeed, it is little more than a practi- 
cal illustration of the Eoratian adage, > S V vis me flere, 
dull ml urn est primum ipsi tibi: If you wish me to weep, 
you must yourself first grieve. Nobody questions its 
truth or applicability. But does it not proclaim thai 
War Preparations in a period of professed Peace must 
naturally prompt adverse Preparations, and everywhere 
within the circle of their influence quicken the Spirit 
ofWarl So are we all knit together that the feelings 
in our own bosoms awaken eorrespond i ng feelings in 
the bosoms of others, — as harp answers to harp in its 
softest vibration, as deep responds to deep in the might 
of its power. What in us is good invites the good in 
OUT brother; generosity begets ecnerosity ; love wins 
love; Peace secures Peace; — while all in us thai is had 
challenges the had in our brother; distrusl engenders 
distrust ; hate provokes hate ; War arouses War. There- 
tore are we admonished to avoid such appeal, and this 
is the voice of Nature itself. 

This beautiful law is everywhere. The wretched 
maniac, in whose mind the common principles of con- 
duct are overthrown, confesses its overruling power; 



102 THE TRUE GRA2TDEUB OE NATIONS. 

and the vacant stare of madness is illumined by a word 
of love. The wild beasts confess it: and what is the 
story of Orpheus, whose music drew in listening- rapture 
the lions and panthers of the forest, or of St. Jerome, 
whose kindness soothed the lion to lie down at his feet, 
but expressions of its prevailing power ? 1 

Even a fable may testify. I would not be tempted 
too far, but, at the risk of protracting this discussion, I 
cannot forget illustrations which show how poetry at 
least, if not history, has interpreted the heart of man. 

Looking back to the historic dawn, one of the most 
touching scenes illumined by that auroral light is the 
peaceful visit of the aged Priam to the tent of Achilles, 
entreating the body of his son. The fierce combat end- 
ed in the death of Hector, whose unhonored corse the 
bloody Greek has trailed behind his chariot. After 
twelve days of grief, the venerable father is moved to 
seek the remains of the son he has so dearly loved. 
He leaves his lofty cedarn chamber, and with a single 
aged attendant, unarmed, repairs to the Grecian camp 
beside the distant sounding sea. Entering alone, he 
finds Achilles in his tent, with two of his chiefs. Grasp- 
ing his knees, the father kisses those terrible homicidal 
hands which had taken the life of his son. Touched by 
the si'Jit which lie, beholds, the heart of the inflamed, 
the angry, the inflexible Achilles responds to the feelings 

i Scholars will remember the incident recorded by Homer in the Odys- 

i] . wIkic Ulysses, on reaching his loved Ithaca, is beset by 

dogs, described as wild beasts in ferocity, who rush towards him barking; 

but he, with craft (thai i- the word of II er), seats himself upon the 

ground and lets hit staff faU from his hand. A similar incident is noticed by 
Mi. Mure, in his entertaining travels in Greece, and also by Mr. Borrow, in 
his " Bible in Spain." Pliny remarks, thai all dogs may be appeased in tlio 
same way: 'IihjhIm eorum et sawitia mitigatur ab homine considente humi." 
Nat. Hist., Lib. VIII. cap. 40. 



mi. rati 1: geaudei b oj NAiioira. l";; 

of Priam. He takes the suppliant by the hand, Beats 
him by his side, consoles bis grief, refreshes his weary 
body, and concedes to the prayers of a weak, unarmed 

old man what all Troy in arms could not win. In this 
scene, which tills a large space in the Iliad, 1 the master 
poet, with unconscious power, has presented a picture 
of the omnipotence ui that law, making all mankind 
of kin, in obedience to which no word of kindness, no 
act of confidence, falls idly to the earth. 

Among the early passages of Roman history, per- 
haps none makes a deeper impression than that scene, 
after the Roman youth were consumed at the Allia, and 
the invading Gauls under Brennus had entered the city, 
where in a temple were seated the venerable Senators 
of the lie public, too old to flee, and careless of surviv- 
ing the Roman name, each on his curule chair, unarmed, 
looking, as Livy says, more augusl than mortal, and 
with the majesty of the gods. The (hud- gaze as upon 
sacred images; and the hand of slaughter, which had 
raged through the streets of Rome, is stayed by the 
sight of an unarmed assembly. This continued until 
one of the invaders standing nearest reached his hand 
to 3troke gently the silveT beard of a Senator, who, in- 
dignant at the license, smote the harharian with his 

ivory staff, which was the signal for general vengeance. 
Think you that a hand of savages could have slain these 
Senators, if the r/yy^// i,, Force, had not been made firsl 
by one of their own number? This story, though re- 
counted by Livy, and also by Plutarch, 2 is repudiated 
by Niebuhr; hut it is none the lr^s interesting a- a 
Legend, attesting the law by which hostile Peelings are 
aroused or subdued. 

i Book .\ XIV. » Liv., Lib. V. cap. 41. Plutarch, aillus. 



104 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

This great scene, in its essential parts, lias been re- 
peated in another age and country. The theatre was 
an African wilderness, with Christian converts for Bo- 
man Senators. The little band, with their pastor, who 
was a local chief, assembled on a Sabbath morning for 
prayer, when suddenly robbers came upon them, as the 
Gauls upon Home, and demanded cattle. The pastor, 
asking his people to sit still, calmly pointed to the cat- 
tle, and then turned back to unite with the rest in 
prayer. The robbers, like the Gauls, looked on in 
silence, awed into forbearance, until they quietly with- 
drew, injuring nobody and touching nothing. Such 
an instance, which is derived from the report of mis- 
sionaries, 1 testifies again to the might of meekness, 
and proves that the Roman story, though reduced 
to the condition of a legend, is in harmony with actual 
life. 

An admired picture by Virgil, in his melodious epic, 
furnishes similar testimony. The Trojan fleet, beaten 
by tempest on the raging waves, is about to succumb, 
when the God of the Sea, suddenly appearing in tran- 
quil power, stills the hostile elements, as a man vener- 
able for piety and deserts by a gentle word assuages a 
furious populace just breaking into sedition and out- 
rage. 2 The sea and the populace Mere equally appeased. 
Alike in the god and the man was the same peaceful 
presence. Elsewhere is this same influence. Guizot, 
illustrates this same influence, when, describing the 
developmenl of mediaeval civilization, lie exhibits an 
angry multitude subdued by an unarmed man, em- 

1 Moffat, Mi--i"ii:irv I.:iIhi]'~ ;mil Scenes in Southern Africa, Ch. 32. 
*JEneid, I. L46- 154. 

" Illi- regit dictis animos et pectora muleet." 



Till: TRUE GEANDEUB OF NATIONS. LOS 

ploying the word instead of the sword. 1 And Burely 
ii" reader of that noble historical romance, the Pro- 
messi Sposi, can forget thai finest scene, where Fra 
Cristoforo, in an age of violence, after slaying his 
comrade in a broil, presents himself unarmed and peni- 
tent before the family and retainers of his victim, and 
by dignified gentleness awakens the admiration of 
men raging against him. Both hemispheres are at 
this moment occupied with the popular romance, Lc 
■ I / Errant, by Eugene Sue, where is an interesting 
1 tie tare of Christian courage superior to the trained vio- 
lence of the soldier. Another example, made familiar 
by recent translations of Frithiqfs Saga, the Swedish 
epic, 2 is more emphatic. Thescene is a battle. Frithiof 
is in deadly combat with Atle, when the falchion of the 
latter breaks. Throwing away his own weapon, Frithiof 
says,— 

" Sicordlessfoeman's life 
Ne'er dyed this gallant blade." 

The t wo champions now close in mutual clutch; they 
hug like bears, says the poet. 

" T is o'er ; for Frithiof 3 matchless strength 
Has felled his ponderous size, 

Ami '110:1th that k , a giant length, 

Supine the Viking lies. 

lit- my sword, thou Berserk swart,' 
The voice rang far and « ide, 
• It- point should pierce thy inmost heart, 

It- hilt Bhould ilrink the tide.' 
■ Be free to lift the weaponed hand,' 
Undaunted Atlr Bpoke; 

less, quest thy distant brand: 
Thus I abide the stroke.' 

Frithiof regains his sword, intent to close the dread de- 

1 Guizot, Histoire de la Civilisation en France, Tom. II. p. 36. 

2 Longfellow, Poets and Poetry of Europe, p. 161: Ti 

5* 



106 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

bate, while his adversary awaits the stroke ; but his heart 
responds to the generous courage of his foe ; he cannot 
injure one who has shown such confidence in him. 

" This quelled his ire, this checked his arm, 
Outstretched the hand of peace.'" 

I cannot leave these illustrations without alluding 
again to the treatment of the insane, teaching, by con- 
clusive example, how strong in Nature must be the 
responsive principle. On proposing to remove the heavy 
chains from the raving maniacs of the Paris hospitals, 
the benevolent Pinel was regarded as one who saw 
visions or dreamed dreams. At la|t his wishes were 
gratified. The change in the patients was immediate ; 
the wrinkled front of warring passion was smoothed into 
the serene countenance of Peace. The treatment by 
Force is now universally abandoned ; the law of kind- 
ness takes its place ; and these unfortunates mingle to- 
gether, unvexed by restraints implying suspicion, and 
therefore arousing opposition. AY hat an example to 
nations, who are little better than insane ! The an- 
cient hospitals, with their violent madness, making con- 
fusion and strife, are a dark, but feeble, type of the 
Christian nations, obliged to wear the intolerable chains 
of War, assimilating the world to one great madhouse; 
while the peace and good-will now abounding in these 
retreats are the happy emblems of what awaits man- 
kind when ;it last we praetieally recognize the suprem- 
acy of those higher sentiments which are at once a 
strength and a charm, — 

" making their future might 
Magnetic o'er the fixed, untrembling heart." 

I might dwell also on recent experience, so full of 
delightful wisdom, in the treatment of the distant, de- 



Tin: TRUE GRANDEUB OB NATIONS. 107 

graded convict of New South Wales, showing how con- 
fidence and kindness on the pari of overseers awaken a 
corresponding sentiment even in outcasts, from whose 
souls \ irtue seems blotted out. 

Thus, from all quarters and sources — the far-off 
Past, the far-away Pacific, the verse of the poet, the 
legend of history, the cell of the mad-house, the con- 
gregation of transported criminals, the experience of 
daily life, the universal heart of man — ascends spon- 
taneous tribute to that law according to which we 
respond to the sentiments by which we are addressed, 
whether of love or hate, of confidence or distrust. 

It' it be urged thai these instances are exceptional, 
1 reply at once, that it is not so. They are indubitable 
evidence of the real man, revealing the divinity of 
Humanity, out of which goodness, happiness, true great- 
ness can alone proceed. They disclose susceptibilities 
confined to no particular race, no special period of time, 
no narrow circle of knowledge or refinement, but pres- 
ent whoever two or more human beings come together, 
and strong in proportion to their virtue and intelli- 
gence. Therefore on the nature of man, as impregnable 
ground, do I place the fallacy of this most costly and 
pernicious prejudice. 

Nor is Human Nature the only witness : Christianity 
testifies in familiar texts, and then again by holiest lips. 
Augustine, in one of his persuasive letters, proti 
with proverbial heart of flame, against tv/rning Peaa 
into a Preparation j<>c War, and then tells the soldier 
whom headdresses to he pacific even in war? From 

1 " Ncm enim pax qnseritur ut bellam excitetur I to < tiambel- 

lando pacificus." — A.ngostini Epistola CCV., ud Bonifacium Comitem: 
Opera, Tom. II. p. 318. 



108 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

the religion of his Master the groat Christian saint had 
learned that Love is more puissant than Force. To the 
reflecting mind, the Omnipotence of God himself is 
less discernible in earthquake and storm than in the 
gentle, hut quickening, rays of the sun, and the sweet 
descending dews. He is a careless observer who does 
not recognize the superiority of gentleness and kindness 
in exercising influence or securing rights among men. 
As the storms of violence beat upon us, we hug man- 
tles gladly thrown aside under the warmth of a genial 
sun. 

Christianity not only teaches the superiority of Love 
to Force, it positively enjoins the practice of the for- 
mer, as a constant, primal duty. It says, " Love your 
neighbors " ; but it does not say, " In time of Peace 
rear the massive fortification, build the man-of-war, en- 
list standing armies, train militia, and accumulate mili- 
tary stores, to overawe and menace your neighbor." 
It directs that we should do to others as we would 
have them do to us,- — a golden rule for all; but how 
inconsistent is that distrust in obedience to which 
nations professing peace sleep like soldiers on their 
arms ! Nor is this all. Its precepts inculcate patience, 
forbearance, forgiveness of evil, even the duty of benefit- 
in- a destroyer, "as the sandal-wood, in the instant 
of its overthrow, sheds perfume on the axe which tells 
it." ('ana people in whom this faith is more than an 
idle word authorize such enormous sacrifices to pamper 
the Spirit of War? Thus far nations have drawn their 
weapons from earthly armories, unmindful that there 
are ol hers of celestial temper. 

The injunction, " Love one another," is as applicable 
to nations as to individuals. It is one of the great laws 



THE TRUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. 100 

of Heaven. And nations, like individuals, may well 
measure their nearness to God and to his glory by the 
conformity of theii conducl to this duty. 

In response to arguments Pounded on economy, the 

true nature of man. and Christianity, I hear the skepti- 
cal note of some advocate of the transmitted order of 
things, some one among the "fire-worshippers" of War, 
saying, All this is beautiful, hut visionary ; it is in ad- 
vance of the age, which is not yet prepared for the great 
change. To such I answer: Nothing can he beautiful 
that i> not true; hut all this is true, and the time has 
come for its acceptance. Now is the dawning day, and 
now the fitting hour. 

The name of Washington is invoked as authority for 
;i prejudice which Economy, Human Nature, and Chris- 
tianity repudiate. Mighty and reverend as is his name, 
more mighty and more reverend is Truth. The words 
of counsel which he gave were in accordance with the 
spirit of his age, — which was not shocked by the 
-trade. But his great soul, which loved virtue 
and inculcated justice and benevolence, frowns upon 
those who would use his authority as an incentive 
to War. God forbid that his sacred character should 
he profanely stretched, like the .skin of John Xi<ka. on 
a militia-drum, to arouse the martial ardor of the Ameri- 
can people 1 

The practice of Washington, during the eight years 
of hi- administration, compared with that of the last 
eight years for which wc have the returns, may explain 
his real opinions. His condemnation of the present 
wasteful system speaks to us from the following table. 1 

1 Executive Document No. 1 J, Twenty-eighth Congress, Firsl Session. 



110 



THE TKUE GRAUDEUE OF NATIONS. 



Years. 


Military 
Establishment. 


Naval 
Establishment. 


1789-91 
1792 
1793 
1794 
1795 
1796 
Total, during eight 
j ' ii - of Washington, 

1835 
1836 
1837 
1838 
1839 
1840 
1841 
1842 
Total, during eight 
reeent years, 


8835,618 

1,223,594 
1,237,620 
2,733,539 
2,573,059 
1,474,672 
| ST0,078,102 

$9,420,313 
19,667,166 
20,702,929 
20,557,473 
14,588,6(54 
12,030,624 
13,704,882 
9,188,469 
J $119,860,520 


$570 
53! 

61,409 

410,562 

274,784 

^747,378 

$3,864,939 
5,807,718 
6,646,915 
6,131,581 
6,182,294 
6,113,897 
6,001,077 
8,397,243 


$49,145,664 



Thus the expenditures for the national armaments un- 
der the sanction of Washington were less than eleven 
million dollars, while during a recent similar period of 
eighl years they amounted to upwards of one hundred 
and sixty-nine million*, — an increase of nearly fifteen 
hundred per cent! To him who quotes the precept of 
Washington I commend the example. He must he 
strongly possessed by the martial mania who will not 
confess, that, in this age, when the whole world is a1 
peace, and our national power is assured, there is less 
need of these Preparations than in an age convulsed 
with War, when our national power was little respected. 
The only semblance of argument in their favor is the 
increased wealth of the country; but the capacity to 
endure taxation is no criterion of its justice, or even of 
its expediency. 

Another fallacy is also invoked, that whatever is is 
right. A barbarous practice is elevated above all those 



Till: I'lMi: GBANDEUB OF NAl [ONS. I 1 1 

authorities by which these Preparations are condemned. 
We are made to count principles as nothing, because 
nol yet recognized by nations. But theyare practically 
applied in the relations of individuals, towns, counties, 
and stales in our Union. All these have disarmed. It 
remains only that they should be extended to the 
grander sphere of nations. Be it our duty to proclaim 
the principles, whatever the practice. Through us let 
Truth speak. 

Prom the past and the present auspicious omens 
cheer us for the future. The terrible wars of the 
French Revolution were the violent rending of the 
body preceding the exorcism of the tiend. Since the 
morning stars first sang together, the world has nol wit- 
nessed a peace so harmonious and enduring as that 
which now blesses the Christian nations. Great ques- 
tions, fraught with strife, and in another age heralds 
of War, are now determined by Mediation or Arbitra- 
tion. Great political movements, which a few short 
years ago must have led to bloody encounter, are now 
conducted by peaceful discussion. Literature, the press, 
and innumerable societies, all join in the work of incul- 
cating good-wil] to man. The Spirit of Humanity per- 
vades the besl writings, whether the elevated philo- 
sophical inquiries of the " Vestiges of the Creation," the 
ingenious, but melancholy, moralizings of the "Story of 
a Feather," or the overflowing raillery of " Punch." NTor 
can the breathing thought and burning word of poet or 
orator have a higher inspiration. Genius is never so 
Promethean as when it hears the heavenly fire to the 
hearths of men. 

In the last age, Dr. Johnson uttered the detestable 



112 THE TRUE GRAOTEUR OF NATIONS. 

sentiment, thai he liked " a good Hater." The man of 
this age will say that lie likes "a good Lover." Thus 
reversing the objects of regard, he follows a higher wis- 
dom and a purer religion than the renowned moralist 
knew. He recognizes that peculiar Heaven-born senti- 
ment, the Brotherhood of Man, soon to become the de- 
cisive touchstone of human institutions. He confesses 
the power of Love, destined to enter more and more 
into the concerns of life. And as Love is more heaven- 
ly than Hate, so must its influence redound more to the 
true glory of man and the approval of God. A Chris- 
tian poet — whose few verses bear him with unflagging 
wing in immortal flight — has joined this sentiment 
with Prayer. Thus he speaks, in words of uncommon 
pathos and power : — 

" He prayeth well who loveth well 
Both man and bird and beast. 

" He prayeth best who loveth best 
All things, both grout and small; 
For the dear God who loveth us, 
lie made and loveth all." 1 

The ancient Law of Hate is yielding to the Law of 
Love. It is seen in manifold labors of philanthropy 
and in missions of charity. It is seen in institutions 
for the insane, the blind, the deaf, the dumb, the poor, 
the outcast, — in generous efforts to relieve those who 
are in prison, — in public schools, opening the gates of 
knowledge to all the children of the land. It is seen in 
the diffusive amenities of social life, and in the increas- 
ing fellowship of nations ; also in the rising opposition 
In Sl;i\ ery and to War. 

There are yet other special auguries of this great 

1 Coleridge, Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Part VII. 



tiii: ti;u: m; wdeur of nations. L13 

change, auspicating, in the natural progress of man, the 
abandonment of all international Preparations for War. 
T<> these I allude briefly, but with a deep conviction of 
their significance. 

Loot at the Past, and sec how War itself is changed, 
so that its oldest "fire- worshipper" would hardly know 
it. At tirst nothing but savagery, with disgusting rites, 
whether in the North American Indian with Powhatan 
as chief, or the earlier Assyrian with Nebuchadnezzar as 
king, but yielding gradually to the influence of civiliza- 
tion. With the Greeks it was less savage, but always 
barbarous, — also with Rome always harharous. Too 
slowly Christianity exerted a humanizing power. Ra- 
belais relates how the friar .loan des Entommeures 
clubbed twelve thousand and more enemies, "withoul 
mentioning women and children, which is understood 
always." But this was War, as seen by that great ge- 
nius in his day. This can be no longer. Women and 
children are safe now. The divine metamorphosis has 
begun. 

Look again at the Past, and observe the chcunge in 
dress. Down to a period quite recent the sword was the 
indispensable companion of the gentleman, wherever he 
appeared, whether in street or society ; but he would be 
deemed madman or bully who should wear it now. At 
an earlier period the armor of complete steel was the 
habiliment of the knight. From the picturesque sketch 
by Sir Walter Scott, in the " Lav of the Last Minstrel," 
we loam the barbarous constraint of this custom. 

"Ton of thorn were Bheathed in Bteel, 

With belted sword, and spur on 1 1; 

They quitted not their harness Wight, 
Neither by day nor yet by night: 



114 THE TEXJE GEANDEUE OF NATIONS. 

They lay down to rest 

With corslet laced, 
Pillowed on buckler cold and hard; 

They carved at the meal 

With gloves of steel, 
And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred." 

But all this is changed now. 

Observe the change in architecture and in domestic 
life. Places once chosen for castles or houses were 
savage, inaccessible retreats, where the massive struc- 
ture was reared to repel attack and to enclose its in- 
habitants. Even monasteries and churches were forti- 
fied, and girdled by towers, ramparts, and ditches, — 
while a child was stationed as watchman, to observe 
what passed at a distance, and announce the approach of 
an enemy. Homes of peaceful citizens in towns were cas- 
tellated, often without so much as an aperture for light 
near the ground, but with loopholes through which the 
shafts of the crossbow were aimed. The colored plates 
now so common, from mediaeval illustrations, especially 
of Froissart, exhibit these belligerent armaments, always 
so burdensome. From a letter of Margaret Paston, in 
the time of Henry the Sixth, of England, 1 draw sup- 
plementary testimony. Addressing in dutiful phrase 
her "right worshipful husband," she asks him to pro- 
cure for her "some crossbows, and wyndacs [grappling- 
irons] to bind them with, and quarrels [arrows with 
square heads]," also "two or three short pole-axes to 
keep within doors"; and she tells her absent lord of 
apparenl preparations by a neighbor, — "great ord- 
nance within the house," "bars to bar the door cross- 
wise," and " wickets on every quarter of the house to 
shoot out at, both with bows and with hand-guns." 1 

l Paston Letters, CX11I. (LXXVII. Vol. 111. p- 315.) 



THE TIM T. GRANDEUB OF nations. ] 1 f, 

Savages could hardly live in greater distrust Lei lmw 
the Poel of Chivaliy describe another scene: — 

"Ton squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men, 
Waited the t «.-»• k of the warden ten; 
Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight, 

St 1 saddled in stable day and night, 

Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow, 
And with Jedwood axe :it Baddle-bow; 
A hundred more fed free in stall: 
Such was the custom of Branksome Hall." 

This also is all changed now. 

The principles causing this change are no1 only ac- 
tive still, bul increasing in activity ; noi ran they be 
confined to individuals. Nations must soon declare 
them, and, abandoning martial habiliments ami forti- 
fications, enter upon peaceful, unarmed life. With 
Bhame let it be said, thai they continue to live in the 
very relations of distrust towards neighbors which 
shock us in the knights of Branksome Hall, and in the 
house of Margaret Paston. They pillow themselves on 
"buckler cold and hard," while their highesl anxiety 
and largest expenditure are tor the accumulation of new 
munitions of War. The barbarism which individuals 
have renounced nations si ill cherish. So doing, they take 
counsel i'f the wild-boar in the fable, who whetted his 

tusks on a tr f the foresl when no enemy was near, 

savin-, that in time of Peace he must prepare for War. 
II is no1 the time conic, when man, whom God created 
in his own image, and to whom he gave the Beaven- 
directed countenance, shall cease to look down to the 
beasl for an example of conduct >. Nay, let me nut 
dishonor the beasts by the comparison. The superior 
animals, at least, prey not, like men, upon their own 
species. The kingly lion turns from his brother lion; 



11G THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

the ferocious tiger will not raven upon his kindred 
tiger; the wild-boar of the forest does not glut his 
sharpened tusks upon a kindred boar. 

" Sed jam serpentum major concordia: parcit 
Cognatis maculis similis fera: quando leoni 
Fortior eripuit vitam leo? quo nemore unquam 
Exspiravit aper majoris dentibus apri? 

Indica tigris agit rabida cum tigride pacem 
Pe.rpetuam.'''' * 

To an early monarch of France just homage has been 
offered for effort in the cause of Peace, particularly in 
abolishing the Trial by Battle. To another monarch of 
France, in our own day, descendant of St. Louis, and 
lover of Peace worthy of the illustrious lineage, Louis 
Philippe, belongs the honest fame of first from the 
throne publishing the truth that Peace is endangered 
by Preparations for War. " The sentiment, or rather 
the principle," he says, in reply to an address from the 
London Peace Convention in 1843, "that in Peace you 
must prepare for War, is one of dificnltj/ and danger; 
for while we keep armies on land to preserve peace, they 
are at the same time incentives and instruments of war. 
He rejoiced in all efforts to preserve peace, for that was 
what all needed. He thoughi the time was coming when 
we should gel riil entirely of war in all civilized coun- 
tries." This time has been hailed by a generous voice 
from the Army itself, by a Marshal of France, — Bu- 
geaud, the Governor of Algiers, — who, at a public dinner 

in Paris, gave as a toast these words of salutation to a 

new and approaching era of happiness : " To the pacific 
union of the greal human family, by the association of 
individuals, nations, and races ! To the annihilation of 
War ! To the transformation of destructive armies into 

i Juvenal, Sat. XV. 159-164. 



tiik Ti;ri: GBAMDETJB OF nations. 117 

corps of LnduatrioTis laborers, who will consecrate their 
lives to the cultivation and embellishmenl of the 
world!" Be it our duty t<> Bpeed this consummation! 
And may other soldiers emulate the pacific aspiration 
of this veteran chief, until tJu track of FPar ceases from 
the earth ! 1 

To William IVnn belongs the distinction, destined to 
brighten as men advance in virtue, of first in human 
history establishing the Law of Lor< as a rule of conduct 
in the intercourse of nations. While recognizing the 
duty "to support power in reverence with the people, 
and to secure the people from the abuse of power," 2 as a 
greal end of government, he declined the superfluous 
protection of arms againsl foreign force, and aimed to 
" reduce the savage nations by just and gentle manners 
In the love of civil society and the Christian religion." 
Eis serene countenance, as he stands with his followers 
in what he called the sweet and (dear ail' of Pennsyl- 
vania, all unarmed, beneath the spreading elm, forming 
the greal treaty lit' friendship with the untutored Indi- 
ans. — whose savage display fills the surrounding fores! 
as far as the eye can reach, — not to wrest their lands 
by violence, hut to ohtain them I >y peaceful purchase, 
— is tn my mind the proudest picture in the history of 

1 There was a moment when the aspiration of the French marshal 
seemed fulfilled even in France, if we may credit the early Madame de 
Lafayette, who, in the first sentence of her Memoirs, announces perfect 

tranquillity, where "i ther arm- were known than instruments for the 

cultivation of the earth and for building, and the trn<>p- were employed on 
these things." Part of their work was to divert the waters of the Eure, so 
that the fountains at Versailles should have a perpetual supply : but this 
was better than War. — Madams de Lafayette, Memoiresd* la Gourde 

France ]xmr l< * Amu >j 1088 el 1689, p. 1. 

- Preface to Penn's Frame "t" Government of the P f Penn- 

sylvania: Bazard'e Register of Pennsylvania, Vol.1, p. 338. See al-oClark- 
Memoirs of Penn, Vol. I. p. 238, Philadelphia, 1814. 



118 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

our country. " The groat God," said the illustrious 
Quaker, in words of sincerity and truth addressed to 
the Sachems, " hath written his law in our hearts, by 
which we are taught and commanded to love and help 
and do good to one another. It is not our custom to 
use hostile weapons against our fellow-creatures, for 
which reason we come unarmed. Our object is not to 
do injury, hut to do good. We are now met on the 
broad pathway of good faith and good will, so that no 
advantage is to be taken on either side, but all is to be 
openness, brotherhood, and love, wdrile all are to be 
treated as of the same flesh and blood." 1 These are 
words of True Greatness. " Without any carnal weapons," 
says one of his companions, " w T e entered the land, and 
inhabited therein, as safe as if there had been thousands 
of garrisons." What a sublime attestation ! " This 
little State," says Oldmixon, " subsisted in the midst 
of six Indian nations without so much as a militia 
for its defence." A great man worthy of the mantle of 
Penn, the venerable philanthropist, Clarkson, in his life 
of the founder, pictures the people of Pennsylvania as 
armed, though without arms, — strong, though without 
strength, — sale, without the ordinary means of safety. 
According to him, the constable's staff was the only in- 
strument of authority for the greater part of a cen- 
tury ; and never, during the administration of Penn, or 
thai iif his proper successors, was there a quarrel or a 
war. 2 

Greater than the divinity that doth hedge a king is 
the divinity that encompasses the righteous man and 
the righteous people. The flowers of prosperity smiled 

i Clarkson's Memoirs of Penn, Vol. I. Ch. 18. 
2 [bid., Vol. II. Ch. 23. 



Tin; TRUE i.KAM'l u; OF NATION& 1 19 

in the footprints of William Penn. His people were 
unmolested and happy, while (sad, bul true contrast ! ) 
other colonies, acting upon the policy of the world, 
building torts, ami showing themselves in arms, were 

harassed by perpetual alarm, ami pierced by the sharp 
allows of sax age war. 

This pattern of a Christian commonwealth never fails 
to arrest the admiration of all who contemplate its 
beauties. It drew an epigram of eulogy from the caus- 
tic pen of Voltaire, and has been fondly painted by sym- 
pathetic historians. Every ingenuous soul in our day 
otters willing tribute to those graces of justice ami hu- 
manity, by the side of which contemporary life on this 
continent seems coarse and earthy. 

Not to barren words can we confine ourselves in recog- 
nition of virtue. While we see the right, and approve it 
too, Ave must dare to pursue it. Now, in this age of civ- 
ilization, surrounded by Christian nations, it is easy to 
follow the successful example of William Penn encom- 
passed by savages. Recognizing those two transcend- 
ent ordinances of God, the Law of Right and the Law 
of Love, — twin suns which illumine the moral universe, 
— why not aspire to the true glory, and, what is higher 
than glory, the greal good, of taking the lead in the dis- 
arming of the nations? Let us abandon the system of 
Preparations for War in time of Peace, as irrational, un- 
christian, vainly prodigal of expense, and having a direct 
tendency to excite the evil againsl which it professes to 
guard. Let the enormous means thus released from 
iron hands be devoted to labors of beneficence. Our 
battlements shall be schools, hospitals, colleges, and 
churches; our arsenal.-- shall be libraries ; ournavyshall 
be peaceful ships, on errands of perpetual commerce; 



120 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

our army shall be the teachers of youth and the minis- 
ters of religion. This is the cheap defence of nations. 
In such intrenchments what Christian soul can be 
touched with fear '. Angels of the Lord will throw 
over the land :iii invisible, but impenetrable panoply : — 

" Or if Virtue feeble were, 
Heaven itself would stoop to her." 1 

At the thought of such a change, the imagination 
loses itself in vain effort to follow the multitudinous 
streams of happiness which gush forth from a thou- 
sand hills. Then shall the naked be clothed and the 
hungry fed; institutions of science and learning shall 
crown every hill-top ; hospitals for the sick, and other 
retreats for the unfortunate children of the world, for 
all who suffer in any way, in mind, body, or estate, 
shall nestle in every valley; while the spires of new 
churches leap exulting to the skies. The whole land 
shall testify to the change. Art shall confess it in the 
new inspiration of the canvas and the marble. The 

1 These are the concluding words of that most exquisite creation of early 
genius, the " Conms." Beyond their intrinsic value, they have authority from 
the circumstance that they were adopted by Milton as a motto, and inscribed 
by him in an allium at ( reneva, while on his foreign travels. This album is 
now in my hands. The truth thus embalmed by the grandest poet of mod- 
ern times is also illustrated in familiar words by the most graceful poet of 
antiquity: — 

" Integer vitse scelerisque purus 
Noii eget Mauris jaculis, nequearcu, 
Nee renenatis gravida sagittis, 

Fusee, pharetra." 

Hok., Carm. I. xxii. 1-4. 

Dryih-i pictures the same in some of his most magical lines: — 

" A milk-white hind, immortal and unchanged, 
Fed on the lawns, and in the forest ranged; 
Without unspotted, innocent within, 
Site f tared no danger, for she knew no sin." 

The llind and the Panther, Part I. 1-4. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUB OF NATIONS. ll'l 

harp of tlir poel shall proclaim it in a Loftier rhyme 
Above all, the hearl of man shall bear witness to it. in 
the elevation of his sentiments, in the expansion of his 
affections, in his devotion to the bighesl truth, in his 
appreciation of true greatness. The eagle of mir coun- 
try, without the terror of his beak, and dropping the 
forceful thunderbolt from his pounces, shall soar, with 
the olive of Peace, into untried realms of ether, nearer 
to the sun. 

I pause to review the field over which we have 
passed. We have beheld War, sanctioned by Inter- 
national Law as a mode of determining justice between 
nations, elevated into an established custom, defined and 
guarded by a complex code known as the Laws of War; 
we have detected its origin in an appeal, not to the 
moral and intellectual part of man's nature, in which 
alone is Justice, but to that low part which he has in 
common with the beast; we have contemplated its in- 
finite miseries to the human race; we have weighed its 
sufficiency as a mode of detennining justice between 
nations, and found that it is a rude invocation to force, 
or a gigantic game of chance, in which God's children 
are profanely treated as a pack of cards, while, in un- 
natural wickedness, it is justly likened to the monstrous 
and impious custom of Trial by Battle, which disgraced 
the Dark Ages, — thus showing, that, in this day of 
boastful civilization, justice between nations is deter- 
mined by the same rules of barbarous, brutal violence 
which once controlled the relations between individuals. 
We have next considered the various prejudices by 
which War is sustained, founded on a false belief in its 
necessity, — the practice of nations, pasl and present, — 



122 THE TKUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

the infidelity of the Christian Church, — a mistaken 
sentiment of honor, — an exaggerated idea of the duties 
of patriotism, — and finally, that monster prejudice 
which draws its vampire life from the vast Prepara- 
tions for War in time of Peace ; — especially dwelling, 
at this stage, upon the thriftless, irrational, and un- 
christian character of these Preparations, — hailing also 
the auguries of their overthrow, — and catching a vision 
of the surpassing good that will be achieved, when the 
boundless means thus barbarously employed are dedi- 
cated to works of Peace, opening the serene path to 
that righteousness which exalteth a nation. 

And now, if it be asked why, in considering the true 
grandeur OF nations, I dwell thus singly and exclu- 
sively on War, it is because War is utterly and irrecon- 
cilably inconsistent with True Greatness. I Thus far, man 
lias worshipped in Military Glory a phantom idol, com- 
pared with which the colossal images of ancient Baby- 
lon or modern Hindustan are but toys; and we, in this 
favored land of freedom, in this blessed day of light, 
are among the idolaters. The Heaven-descended in- 
junction, Know tJi //self, still speaks to an unheeding 
world from the far-off letters of gold at Delphi: Kruno 
thyself; know that the moral is the noblest part of man, 
transcending far that which is the seat of passion, strife, 
and War, — nobler than the intellect itself. And the 
human heart, in its untutored, spontaneous homage 
to the virtues of Peace, declares the same truth, — 
admonishing the military idolater that it is not the 
bloody combats, even of bravest chiefs, even of gods 
themselves, as they echo from the resounding lines of 
the great Poet of War, which receive the warmest ad- 



THE TRUE GBAHDEUB OF BTATIOHR 123 

miration, mil those two semes where are painted tlic 
gentle, anwarlike affections of our nature, the Parting 
of Hector from Andromache, and the Supplication of 

Priam. In the definitive election of these peaceful 
pictures, the soul of man, inspired bya better wisdom 
than that of books, and drawn unconsciously by the 
heavenly attraction of what is truly great, acknowl- 
edges, in touching instances, the vanity of Military 
Glory- The Beatitudes of Christ, which shrink from 
savin-. " Blessed are the War-makers," inculcate the 
same lessmi. Reason affirms and repeats what the 
heart has prompted and Christianity proclaimed. Sup- 
pose War decided by Force, where is the glory? Sup- 
pose it decided by Chance, where is the glory? Surely, 
in other ways True Greatness lies. Xor is it difficult 
to tell where. 

True Greatness consists in imitating, as nearly as pos- 
sible for finite man, the perfections of an Infinite Crea- 
tor, — above all, in cultivating those highest perfections, 
Justice and Love : Justice, which, like that of St. Louis, 
does not swerve to the right hand or to the left; Love, 
which, like that of William Penn, regards all mankind 
as of kin. "God is angry," says Plato, "when any one 
censures a man like Himself, or praises a man of an 
opposite character: and the godlike man is the good 
man." ' Again, in another of those lovely dialogues 
precious with immortal truth: " Nothing resembles God 
more than that man among us who has attained fco the 
highest degree of justice." 3 The Tine Greatness of 
Nation- is in those qualities which constitute the true 
greatness of the individual. It is not in extent of ter- 
ritory, or vastness of population, or accumulation of 

l Minos, § 12. 2 Thcsetctu?, § 85. 






124 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

wealth, — not in fortifications,' or armies, or navies, — 
not in the sulphurous blaze of battle, — not in Golgothas, 
though covered by monuments that kiss the clouds ; 
for all these are creatures and representatives of those 
qualities in our nature which are unlike anything in 
God's nature. Nor is it in triumphs of the intellect 
alone, — in literature, learning, science, or art. The 
polished Greeks, out masters in the delights of art, and 
the commanding Romans, overawing the earth with 
their power, were little more than splendid savages. 
And the age of Louis the Fourteenth, of France, span- 
ning so long a period of ordinary worldly magnificence, 
thronged by marshals bending under military laurels, 
enlivened by the unsurpassed comedy of Moliere, dig- 
nit ied by the tragic genius of Corneille, illumined by 
the splendors of Bossuet, is degraded by immoralities 
that cannot be mentioned without a blush, by a heart- 
lessness in comparison with which the ice of Nova 
Zembla is warm, and by a succession of deeds of in- 
justice not to be washed out by the tears of all the re- 
cording angels of Heaven. 

The True Greatness of a Nation cannot be in tri- 
umphs ")' the intellect alone. Literature and art may 
enlarge the sphere of its influence; they may adorn 
it; but in their nature they are but accessaries. The, 
Trin- (Jrnnilinr of Humanity is in moral elevation, sus- 
tained, enlightened, and decorated by the intellect of 
in", i. Tlir suresl tokens of this grandeur in a na- 
tion are Hint Christian Beneficence which diffuses the 
greatest happiness among all, and that passionless, 
godlike Justice which controls the relations of the 
nation to other nations, and to all the people committed 
charge. 



THE TRUE GBANDEUB OF NATIONS. L25 

I * 1 1 1 War Grushes with bloody heel all beneficence, all 
happiness, all justice, all that Is godlike in man, — sus- 
pending every commandmenl of the Decalogue, setting 
at naught every principle oi the G-ospel, and silencing 
all law, human as well as divine, except only that im- 
pious code of its own, the Laws <;/' //'''/•. It' in its dis- 
mal annals there is any cheerful passage, be assured it 
is not inspired by a martial Fury. Let it not he for- 

ten, let it he ever home in mind, as you ponder this 
theme, that the virtues which shed their charm oVer its 
honors are all borrowed of Peace, — that they are 
emanations from the Spirit of Love, which is so strong 
in the heart of man that it survives the rudest assault. 
The (lowers of gentleness, kindliness, fidelity, humani- 
ty, which flourish unregarded in the rich meadows of 
Peace, receive unwonted admiration when we discern 
them in War, — like violets shedding their perfume on 
the perilous edge of the precipice, beyond the smiling 
holders of civilization. God be praised for all the ex- 
amples of magnanimous virtue which he has vouch- 
safed to mankind ! God be praised, that the Roman 
Emperor, about to start on a distant expedition of War, 
encompassed by squadrons of cavalry, and by golden 
eagles swaying in the wind, stooped from his saddle to 
hear the prayer of a humble widow, demanding justice 
for the death of her son! 1 God be praised, that Sid- 
ney, on the field of battle, gave with dying hand the cup 
of cold water to the dying soldier! That single act of 

1 According to the legends of the Catholic Churcli, this most admired in- 
Btance of justice opened to Trajan, although a heathen, thi alva- 

tion. Dante found thi I the "visible Bpeech " of the widow and 

or storied on the walls of Purgatory, and has transmitted them in a 
passage which commends itself hardly less than any in the divine poem. — 
See Purgalorio, Canto X. 



12G THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

self-forgetful sacrifice lias consecrated the deadly field 
of Zutphen, far, oh, far beyond its battle ; it has conse- 
crated thy name, gallant Sidney, beyond any feat of thy 
sword, beyond any triumph of thy pen ! But there are 
lowly suppliants in other places than the camp ; there 
are hands outstretched elsewhere than on fields of blood. 
Everywhere is opportunity for deeds of like charity. 
Know well that these are not the product of War. 
They do not spring from enmity, hatred, and strife, but 
from those benign sentiments whose natural and ripened 
fruit of joy and blessing are found only in Peace. If at 
any time they appear in the soldier, it is less because 
than notwithstanding he is the hireling of battle. Let 
me not be told, then, of the virtues of War. Let not 
the acts of generosity and sacrifice sometimes blossom- 
ing on its fields be invoked in its defence. From such 
a giant root of bitterness no true good can spring. The 
poisonous tree, in Oriental imagery, though watered 
by nectar and covered with roses, produces only the 
fruit of death. 

Casting our eyes over the history of nations, with 
horror we discern the succession of murderous slaugh- 
ters by which their progress is marked. Even as the 
hunter follows the wild beast to lus lair by the drops 
of blood on the ground, so we follow Man, faint, weary, 
staggering with wounds, through the Black Forest of 
the Past, winch lie lias reddened with his gore. Oh, let 
it not be in the future ages as in those we now contem- 
plate ! Let the grandeur of man be discerned, not in 
bloody victory or ravenous conquest, but in the bless- 
ings he has secured, in the good he has accomplished, 
in the triumphs of Justice and Beneficence, in the 
establishment of Perpetual Peace ! 



THE TKl'i: cKAXI'ITi; OF NATIONS. L27 

As ocean washes every shore, and with all-em- 
bracing arms clasps every land, while (in iis heaving 
bosom it bears the products of various dimes, so Peace 
surrounds, protects, and upholds all other blessings. 
Without it, commerce is vain, the ardor of industry is 
restrained, justice is arrested, happiness is I >lasted, vir- 
tue sickens and dies. 

I' ce, too, has its own peculiar victories, in compari- 
son with which .Marathon and Bannockbum and Bunker 
Hill, tidds sacred in the history of human freedom, lose 
their lustre. Our own Washington rises to a trulj 
heavenly stature, not when we follow him through the 
ice of the Delaware to the capture of Trenton, nol when 
we behold him victorious over Cornwallis al Xorktown, 
hut when we regard him, in nohle deference to Justice, 
refusing the kingly crown which a faithless soldiery 
proffered, and at a later day upholding the peaceful 
neutrality of the country, while he met unmoved the 
clamor of the people wickedly crying for War. Whal 
glory of battle in England's annals will nol fade by the 
side of that great act of justice, when her Parliament, at 
■ ■I' one hundred million dollars, gave freedom to 
eight hundred thousand slaves ? And when the day 
shall come [may these eyes be gladdened by its beams!) 
thai shall witness an act of larger justice still, — the 
peaceful emancipation of three million fellow-mi u 
"guilty of a skin not colored as our own*" uow, in this 
hind of jubilant freedom, bound in gloomy bondage, — 
then will there be a victory by the side of which that 
of Bunker Hill will be as the farthing candle held 
up to the sun. That victory will need no monument 
of stone. It will he written on the grateful hearts of 
countless multitudes that shall proclaim it to the 



128 THE TRUE GEANDETJE OF NATIONS. 

latest generation. It will be one of the famed land- 
marks of civilization, — or, better still, a link in the 
golden chain by which Humanity connects itself with 
the throne of ( rod. 

As man is higher than the beasts of the field, as the 
angels are higher than man, as Christ is higher than 
Mars, as he that ruleth his spirit is higher than he that 
taketh a city, — so are the victories of Peace higher than 
the victories of War. 

Far be from us, fellow-citizens, on this festival, the 
pride of national victory, and the illusion of national 
freedom, in which we are too prone to indulge ! None 
of you make rude boast of individual prosperity or 
prowess. And here I end as I began. Our country 
cannot do what an individual cannot do. Therefore it 
must not vaunt or be puffed up. Rather bend to un- 
performed duties. Independence is not all. We have 
but half done, when we have made ourselves free. The 
scornful taunt wrung from bitter experience of the great 
Revolution in France must not be levelled at us: "They 
wish to be free, but know not how to be just" 1 Nor 
is priceless Freedom an end in itself, but rather the 
means of Justice and He neficence, where alone is endur- 
ing concord, with thai attendant happiness which is the 
final end and aim of Nations, as of every human heart. 
It is not enough to be free. There must be Peace which 
cannot fail, and other nations must share the great 
possession. To this end must we labor, bearing ever 
in mind two special objects, complements of each 
other: tiist, the Arbitrament of War must end; and, 

1 " lis veulenl rtre libres, el ne saventpas ctrejustes" was the famous ex- 
clamation of Sieyi 



Till: TIM i: GRANDEUB OB NATIONS. l_".i 

secondly, Disarmament must begin. With this ending 
and this beginning tin- great gates of the Euturewill be 
opened, and the guardian virtues will assert ;i new 
empire. Alas! until this is done, National Eonor and 
National Glory will yel longer flaunl in blood, and there 
can lie no True Grandeur of Nations. 

To this great work let me summon you. That Fu- 
ture, which filled tin 1 lofty vision of sages ami bards in 
' tnd Rome, which was foretold by Prophets and 

heralded by Evangelists, when man, in Happy Isles, or 
in a new Paradise, shall confess the loveliness of Peace, 
may you secure, if not for yourselves, at leasl for your 
children! Believe that you can do it, and you can do it. 
The true Golden Age is before, not behind. If man has 
once been driven from Paradise, while an angel with 
flaming sword forbade his return, there is another Para- 
en on earth, which he may make for himself, 
by the cultivation of knowledge, religion, and the kindly 
virtues of life, — where the confusion of tongues shall 
be dissolved in the union of hearts, and joyous Nature, 
borrowing prolific charms from prevailing Harmony, 
shall spread her lap with unimagined bounty, and 
there shall he perpetual jocund Spring, and sweet strains 
borne on " the odoriferous wing of gentle gales," through 
valleys of delight more plea-ant than the Vale of Tempe, 
richer than the < Sarden of the Eesperides, with no dragon 
to guard its -olden fruit. 

I- it said thai the age does not demand this work ' 
The robber conqueror of the Past, from fiery sepulchre, 
demands it ; the precious blood of millions unjustly 
i in W'.n. crvin- from the ground, demands it: the 
heart of the -odd man demands it : the conscience, 
even of the soldier, whispers, "Peace!" There are 

6* I 



130 THE TRUE GBANDEUB OF NATIONS. 

considerations springing from our situation and con- 
dition which fervently invite us to take the lead. 
Eere should join the patriotic ardor of the land, the 
ambition of the statesman, the effort of the scholar, the 
pervasive influence of the press, the mild persuasion of 
the sanctuary, the early teaching of the school. Here, 
in ampler ether and diviner air, are untried holds 
for exalted triumph, more truly worthy the American 
name than any snatched from rivers of blood. War 
is known as the Last Reason of Kings. Let it be no 
reason of our Republic. Let us renounce and throw 
off forever the yoke of a tyranny most oppressive 
of all in the world's annals. As those standing on 
the mountain-top first discern the coming beams of 
morning, so may we, from the vantage-ground of lib- 
eral institutions, first recognize the ascending sun of 
a new era ! Lift high the gates, and let the King 
of Glory in, — the King of True Glory, — of Peace! 
I catch the last words of music from the lips of in- 
nocence and beauty, 1 — 

'• Ami let the win ilc earth be filled with His Glory! " 

It is a beautiful picture in Grecian story, that there 
was at Least one spot, the small island of Delos, dedi- 
cated to the gods, and kept at all times sacred from 
War. No hostile loot ever pressed this kindly soil, 
and citizens of all countries met here, in common 
worship, beneath the aegis of inviolable Peace. So let 
us dedicate our beloved country; and may the Messed 
consecration be t'clt in all its parts, everywhere through- 
out its ample domain ! The Temple of Honor shall 

i I'll.' services "f the choir on this occasion were performed by the youth- 
fill daughters of the public school of Bo inn. 



T1IF. TRUE QRANDEUB nF NATIONS. 1 3 1 

1 Qclosed by the Temple of Concord, thai it may 

never more be entered through any portal of War; 
the horn of Abundance shall overflow at its gates ; 
the angel of Religion shall be the guide over its steps 
of flashing adamant ; while within its happy 'courts, 
purged of Violence and Wrong, Justice, returned to 
tin- earth from long exile in the skies, with equal 
seal.- for nations as for men, shall rear her serene 
and majestic fronl ; and by her side, greatest of all, 
Chakity, sublime in meekness, hoping all and en- 
during all, shall divinely temper every righteous 
decree, and with winds of infinite cheer inspire 
to those deeds that cannot vanish away. And the 
future chief of the Republic, destined to uphold the 
glories of a new era, unspotted by human blond, 
shall be first in Peace, first iu the hearts of his coun- 
trymen. 

While seeking these fruitful glories for ourselves, let 
us strive for their extension to other lands. Let the 
bugles sound the Truce of God to the whole world for- 
ever. Not to one people, but to every people, let the 
glad tidings go. The selfish beast of the Spartan women, 
that they never saw the smoke of an enemy's camp, 
must become the universal chorus of mankind, while 
the iron belt of War, now encompassing the globe, is 
exchanged for the golden cestus of Peace, clothing all 
with celestial beauty. History dwells with fondness on 
the reverenl homage bestowed by massacring soldiers 
upon the spot occupied by the sepulchre of the Lord. 
Vain man! why confine regard to a few feet of 
cred mould? The whole earth is the sepulchre of the 
I. 1: nor can any righteous man profane any part 
thereof. Confessing this truth, let us now. on this Sab- 



132 TIIE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

1 »ath of the Nation, lay a new and living stone in the 
grand Temple of Universal Peace, whose dome shall be 
lofty as the firmament of heaven, broad and compre- 
hensive as earth itself. 



TRIBUTE OF FRIENDSHIP: 
THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

ARTICLE FROM Till: BOSTOS l»\n.Y ADVERTISER, SEPTEMBER 10, 184o. 



I SAVE just returned from the funeral of this great 
and good man. [Jnder thai roof where I have 30 
often seen him in health, buoyant with life, exuberant in 

kindness, happy in family and friends, I si 1 by his 

mortal remains sunk in eternal rest, and gazed upon those 
well-loved features from which even the icy touch of 
death had not effaced all the li\ ing beauty. The eve was 
quenched, and the glow of life extinguished; but the 
noble brow seemed still to shelter, as under a marble 
dome, the spirit that had tied. And is he dead, 1 asked 
myself, — whose face was never turned to me, excepl in 
affection, — who has filled the civilized world with his 
name, and drawn to his country the homage of foreign 
nations, — who was of activity and labor that knew qo 
rest, — who was connected with so many circle- by 
duties of such various kinds, by official ties, by sym- 
pathy, by friendship and love, — who, according to the 
beautiful expression of Wilberforce, "touched life at so 
many points," — has he, indeed, passed away? CTpon 
the small plate on the coffin was inscribed, Joseph 
Story, died September 10th, 1845, aged 66 years. 
These few words might apply to the lowly citizen, as to 



134 HtfBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

the illustrious Judge. Thus is the coffin-plate a register 
of the equality of men. 

At his well-known house we joined in religious wor- 
ship. The Rev. Dr. Walker, present head of the Uni- 
versity, in earnest prayer, commended his soul to God 
who gave it, and invoked upon family and friends a 
consecration of their afflictive bereavement. From this 
service we followed, in mournful procession, to the rest- 
ing-place which he had selected for himself and his 
family, amidst the beautiful groves of Mount Auburn. 
As the procession filed into the cemetery I was moved 
by the sight of the numerous pupils of the Law School, 
with uncovered heads and countenances of sorrow, 
ranged on each side of the road within the gate, testify- 
ing by silent and unexpected homage their last rever- 
ence to their departed teacher. Around the grave, as 
he was laid in the embrace of the mother earth, were 
gathered all in our community most distinguished in 
law, learning, literature, stat ion, — Judges of our Courts, 
Professors of the University, surviving classmates, and 
a thick cluster of friends. He was placed among the 
children taken from him in early life. Of such is the 
kingdom of heaven were the words he had inscribed 
over their names on the simple marble which now com- 
memorates alike the children and their father. Nor is 
there a child in heaven of more childlike innocence and 
purity than he, who, full of years and honors, has gone 
to mingle with these children. 

There is another sentence, inscribed by him on this 
family stone, which speaks to us now with a voice of 
consolation. Sorrow not as those without hope were 
tin' words which brought solace to him in his bereave- 
ments. From his bed beneath he seems to whisper thus 



TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STOET. L35 

among his mourning family and Mends, — mosl espe- 
cially to her, the chosen partner of his life, from whom 
so much of human comfort is apparently removed. He 
is indeed gone ; but we shall see him once more forever. 
With this blessed trust, we may find happiness in 
dwelling upon his virtues and lame on earth, till the 
great consoler, Time, shall come with healing iir his wings. 

From the grave of the Judge I walked a few short 
steps to that of his classmate and friend, the beloved 
Channing, who died less than three years ago, aged 
sixty-two. Thus these companions in early studies — 
each afterwards foremost in important duties, pursuing 
divergent paths, yet always drawn towards each other 
by the attractions of mutual friendship — again meet 
and lie down together in the same sweel earth, in the 
shadow of kindred trees, through which the same birds 
Bing a perpetual requiem. 

The afternoon was of unusual brilliancy, and the full- 
orbed sun gilded with mellow light the funereal stones 
through which I wound my way, as I sought the grave 
of another friend, the first colleague of the departed 
Judge in the duties of the haw School, — Professor 
Ashmun. After a life crowded with usefulness, he laid 
down the burden of disease which he had long borne, 
at the early age of thirty-three. I remember listening, 
in L833, to the flowing discourse which Story pro- 
nounced, in the College Chapel, over the departed ; nor 
can 1 forget his deep emotion, as we stood together at 
the foot of the grave, while- the earth fell, dust to dust, 
upon the coffin of his friend. 

Wandering through this silent city of the dead, I 
called to mind those words of Beaumont on the Tombs 
in Westminster ALbey : — 



L36 TBIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STOBY. 

'• Bere 'a an acre sown indeed 
With the richest, royal's! seed 
That the earth did e'er suck in 
Since the first man died for sin; 
Here are sands, ignoble things 
Dropt from the ruined sides of kings." 

A richer royalty is sown at Mount Auburn. The kings 
thai slumber there were anointed by more than earth- 
ly hand. 

Turning again to the newest grave, I found no one 
lmt the humble gardeners, smoothing the sod over the 
fresh earth. It was late in the afternoon, and the upper 
branches of the stately trees that wave over the sacred 
spot, after glistening for a while in the golden rays of 
the setting sun, were left in the gloom which had already 
settled on the grass beneath. Hurrying away, I reached 
the gate as the porter's curfew was tolling to forgetful 
musers like myself the warning to leave. 

Moving away from the consecrated field, 1 thought 
of the pilgrims that would conic from afar, through 
successions of generations, to look upon the lust home 
of the greal Jurist. From all parts of our own coun- 
try, from all the lands where law is taughl as a science, 
and where justice prevails, they will come to seek the 
grave of their master. Let us guard, then, this precious 
dust. Let us be happy, that, though his works and his 
example belong to the world, his remains are placed in 
our peculiar rare. To us, also, who saw him face to 
face, in the performance of his various duties, and who 
so irreparable, is the melancholy pleasure 
of dwelling with household affection upon his surpass- 
ing excellences. 

Eis death makes a chasm which 1 shrink from con- 
templating. He was the senior Judge of the highest 
Court of the country, an active Professor of Law, and 



TRIBUTE TO Till-: LATE JOSEPH STORY. 137 

a Fellow in the Corporation of Harvard University. 
Be was in himself a whole triumvirate ; and these three 
distinguished posts, now vacant, will be filled, in all 
probability, each by a distinct successor. It is, how- 
ever, as the Jurist that he is to take his place in the his- 
tory of the world, high in the same firmament where 
beam the mild glories of Tribonian, Cujas, Hale and 
Mansfield. It was his fortune, unlike that of many 
cultivating the law with signal success on the European 
continent, to he called as a judge practically to adminis- 
ter and apply it in the business of life. It thus became 
t" him not merely a science, whose depths and intrica- 

he i xplored in his closet, hut a great and godlike 
instrument, to he employed in that grandest of earth- 
ly functions, the determination of justice among men. 
While the. duties of thf magistrate were thus illumined 
by the studies of the jurist, the latter were tempered 
to a tiner edge by the experience of the bench. 

In the attempt to estimate his character as a Jurist, 
he may he regarded in three different aspects, — as 
Judge, Author, and Teacher of Jurisprudence, exercis- 
ing in each a peculiar influence. His lot is rare who 
achieves fame in any single department of human ac- 
tion; rarer -till is his who becomes foremost in many. 
The first impression is of astonishment, that a single 
mind, in a single life, should accomplish so much. 
Omitting the incalculable labors, of which there is no 
trac ' in the knowledge, happiness, and justice 

they helped to secure, the bare amount of his written 
and printed works is enormous beyond precedent in the 
annals n\ the Common Law. Hi- written judgments 
on his circuit, and his various commentaries, occupy 

ty-seven volumes, while his judgments in the Su- 



138 TBIBUTE TO THE I. ATI! JOSEPH STOEY. 

preme Court of the United States form an important 
pari of no less than thirty-four volumes more. The 
vast professional labors of Coke and Eldon, which seem 
to clothe the walls of our libraries, must yield to his in 
extent, lie is the Lope de Vega, or the Walter Scott, 
iif the < Jommon Law. 

We arc struck next by the universality of his juridical 
attainments. It was said by Dryden of a great lawyer 
in English history, — Heneage Finch, — 

'• ( >m- laws, that did a boundless ocean seem, 
Were coasted all and fathomed all by him." 

But the boundless ocean of that age was a " closed sea," 
compared with that on which the adventurer embarks 
to-day. In Howell's Familiar Letters there is a saying 
of only a i'ew short years before, that the books of the 
Common Law might all be carried in a wheelbarrow. 
To coast such an ocean were a less task than a moiety 
of his Labors whom we now mourn. Called to admin- 
ister all the different branches of law, kept separate in 
England, he showed a. mastery of all. His was Univer- 
sal Empire ; and wherever he set his foot, in the various 
realms of jurisprudence, it was as a sovereign, — whether 
in the ancient and subtile learning of heal Law, — the 
Criminal Law, — the niceties of Special Pleading, — the 
more refined doctrines of ( iontracts, — the more rational 
system of Commercial and Maritime Law, — the peculiar 
and interesting principles and practice of Admiralty and 
Prize, — the immense range of Chancery,- — the modern, 
Inn important, jurisdiction over Patents, — or that high- 
er region, the great themes of Public and Constitutional 

Law. In each of these branches there are judgments 
by him which will not yield in value to those of any 
other judge in England orthe United States, even though 



Tlll!;i i i: TO Tin: LATE JOSEPH BTOEY. L39 

his studies Mini duties may have been directed to only 
particular department 

Mis judgments are remarkable for exhaustive treat- 
ment The Common Law, as every student knows to his 
cost, is found only in Innumerable " sand-grains " of au- 
thority. In his Learned expositions not one of these is 
overlooked, while all are combined with care, and the 
golden cord of reason is woven across the ample tissue. 
There is in them, besides, a clearness which flings over 
the subjeel .1 perfect day, — a severe logic, which, by its 
closeness and precision, makes us feel the truth of the 
saying of Leibnitz, that nothing approaches so near the 
certainty of geometry as the reasoning of the law, — 

areful attention to the discussions at the bar, that 
nothing should lie lost, — with a copious and persua 
eloquence investing the whole. Many of his judgments 
will he landmarks in the law: 1 know of no -mule 
judge who has set up so many. 1 think it may he said, 
without teai' of question, that the Reports show a larger 
number of judicial opinions from Story, which posterity 
will not willingly lot die, than from any other judge in 
the history of English or American law. 

There is much of his character as a Judge which 
cannot l>e preserved, except in the faithful memory of 
those whose happiness it was to enjoy his judicial pres- 
ence. I refer particularly to his mode of conducting 
business. Even the passing stranger bore witness to 
his suavity of manner on the bench, while all practi- 
tioners in tic court- where lie presided so long atl 
the marvellous quickness with which he seized habit- 
ually the points of a case, often anticipating the slower 
movements of counsel, and leaping, or. l might almost 
say, flying, to the proper conclusion. Napoleon's percep- 



140 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STOET. 

tion, at the head of an army, was not more rapid. Nor 
can 1 forget the scrupulous rare with which he assigned 
reasons for every portion of his opinions, showing that 
it was not he who spoke with the voice of authority, but 
the A'/'-, whose organ he was. 

In the history of the English bench there are but two 
names with combined eminence as Judge and Author, 
— Coke and Hale, — unless, indeed, the " Ordinances 
in Chancery," from the Yerulamian pen, should entitle 
Lord Bacon to this distinction, and the judgments of 
Lord Brougham should vindicate the same for him. 
Blackstone's character as judge is lost in the fame of 
the Commentaries. To Story belongs this double glory. 
Early in life he compiled an important professional 
work ; but it was only at a comparatively recent period, 
after his mind had been disciplined by the labors of the 
bench, that he prepared those elaborate Commentaries 
which have made his name a familiar word in foreign 
countries. They who knew him best observed the 
lively interest which he took in this extension of his 
renown. And most justly; for the voice of distant 
foreign nation- comes as from a living posterity. His 
works have been reviewed with praise in the journals 
of England, Scotland, Ireland, France, and Germany. 
They are cited as authorities in all the Courts of West- 
mill-!.!' I hill ; and one of the ablest and most learned 
jurist - of the age, whose honorable career at the bar has 
opened in him the peerage,— Lord Campbell, — in the 
course of debate in the House of Lords, accorded to 
their author an exalted place, saying that he "had a 

greater reputation as a legal writer than any author Eng- 
land could boast since the days of Blackstone." l 

i Hansard, LXVIII. GG7. 



Ti;iL5UTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH BTOET. 141 

To complete this hasty survey, T should allude to his 
excellences as a Teacher of law, thai other relation 
which he sustained) to jurisprudence. The numerous 
pupils reared at his feet, and now scattered through- 
out the country, diffusing, in their differenl circles, the 
light obtained at < lambridge, as they hear that their lie- 
loved master ha- fallen, will each feel that he has lost 
a friend, lie had the faculty, rare as it is exquisite, of 
interesting the young, ami winning their affections. I 
have often seen him surrounded by a group "f youths, 

— the ancient Etonians might have aptly called it a 
coron", — all intent upon his earnest conversation, and 
freely interrogating him on matters of interest. In his 
lectures, and other form- of instruction, he was prodigal 
of explanation and illustration ; his manner, according 
to the classical image of Zeno, was like the open palm, 
never like the clenched fist. His learning was always 
overflowing, as from the horn of abundance. He was 
earnest and unrelaxing in effort, patient and gentle, 
while he listened with inspiring attention to all that the 
pupil said. Like Chaucer's Clerk, 

" And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche." 

Above all, he was a living example of love for the 
law, — supposed by many to lie unlovely and repulsive, 

— which seemed to grow warmer under the snows of 
accumulating winters ; and such an example could not 
tail, with magnetic power, to touch the hearts of the 
young. Nor should I forget the lofty standard of pro- 
fessional morals which he inculcated, filling his discourse 
with the charm of goodness. Under such auspices, and 
those of his learned associate. Professor Greenleaf, large 
classes of students, larger than any other in America, 



142 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

or in England, were annually gathered in Cambridge. 
The Law School became the glory of the University. 

He Mas proud of his character as Professor. In his 
earlier works he is called on the title-page "Dane Pro- 
fessor of Law." It was only on the suggestion of the 
English publisher that he was induced to append 
the other title, "One of the Justices of the Supreme 
Court of the United States." He looked forward with 
peculiar satisfaction to the time which seemed at hand, 
when he should lay down the honors and cares of the 
bench, and devote himself singly to the duties of his 
chair. 

I have merely glanced at him in his three several 
relations to jurisprudence. Great in each, it is on this 
unprecedented combination that his peculiar fame will 
be reared, as upon an immortal tripod. In what I have 
written, I do not think lam biased by partialities of pri- 
vate friendship. L have endeavored to regard him as 
posterity will regard him, as all must regard him now 
who fully know him in his works. Imagine for one 
moment the irreparable loss, if all that he has done 
were blotted out forever. As I think of the incalculable 
facilities afforded by his labors, 1 cannot but say with 
Racine, when speaking of Descartes, "Nous courons; 
mais,sans lui, nous ne marcherions pas." Besides, it- is he 
who has inspired in many foreign bosoms, reluctant to 
perceive good in our country, a sincere homage to the 
American name. He has turned the stream refluent 
upon the ancient fountains of Westminster Hall, and, 
stranger still, has forced the waters above their sources, 
up the unaccustomed heights of countries alien to the 
Common Law. It is he also who has directed, from the 
copious well-springs of Roman Law, and from the fresher 



TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH BTOE* 1 l-"> 

currents of modem ( lontinental Law, a pure and grateful 
stream to enrich and fertilize our domestic jurisprudence. 

In his judgments, his 1 ks, and his teachings, he drew 

always from other systems to illustrate the Common 

Law. 

The mind naturally seeks to compare him with emi- 
nent jurists, servants of Themis, who share with him the 
wide spaces of fame. In genius for the law, in the ex- 
ling usefulness of his career, in the blended charac- 
ter of Judge and Author, he cannol yield to our time- 
honored master, Lord Coke; in suavity of manner, and 
in silver-tongued eloquence, he may compare with Lord 
Mansfield, while in depth, accuracy, and variety of ju- 
ridical learning he surpassed him far; if he yields to 
Lord Stowell in elegance of diction, he exceeds even his 
excellence in curious exploration of the foundations of 
that jurisdiction which they administered in common, 
and in the development of those great principles of pub- 
lic law whose just determination helps to preserve the 
peace of nations; and even in the peculiar field illus- 
trated by the long career of Eldon, we find him a famil- 
iar worker, with Eldon's profusion of learning, and with- 
out the perplexity of his doubts. There arc many who 
regard the judicial character of the late chief Justice 
Marshall as unapproachable. I revere his name, and 
have read his judgments, which seem like " pure rea- 
son," with admiration and gratitude; hut I cannot dis- 
guise thai even these noble memorials must yield in 
juridical character, learning, acuteness, fervor, variety of 
topic-, as they are far inferior in amount, to those of our 
friend. There i-. -till -pared to us a renowned judge, at 
this moment the unquestioned living head of American 
jurisprudence, with no ri\ al near the throne, — < !hancel- 



144 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

Lor Kent, — whose judgments and works always inspired 
the wannest eulogy of the departed, and whose charac- 
ter as a jurist furnishes the fittest parallel to his own in 
tin' annals of our law. 

It seems idle to weave further these vain comparisons, 
particularly to invoke the living. But busy fancy re- 
vives the past, and persons and scenes renew themselves 
in my memory. I call to mind the recent Chancellor 
of England, the model of a clear, grave, learned, and 
conscientious magistrate, — Lord Cottenham. I see 
again the ornaments of Westminster Hall, on the bench 
and at the bar, where sits Denman, in manner, conduct, 
and character " every inch " the judge, — where pleaded 
the consummate lawyer, Follett, whose voice is now 
hushed in the grave ; their judgments, their arguments, 
their conversation I cannot forget; but thinking of 
these, I feel new pride in the ureal Magistrate, the just 
• Indue, the consummate Lawyer whom we lament. 

It has been my fortune to know the chief jurists of 
our time, in the classical countries of jurisprudence, 
France and Germany. I remember well the pointed 
and effective style of Dupin, in one of his masterly ar- 
guments before the highest court of France; I recall 
the pleasanl converse of Pardessus — to whom commer- 
cial and maritime law is under a Larger debt, perhaps, 
than to any other mind — while he descanted on his 
favorite theme; I wander in fancy to the gentle pres- 
ence "f him with flowing silver locks who was so dear 
to Germany, -Thibaut, the expounder of Roman law, 
and the earnesl ami successful advocate of a just 

scheme for tin' reducti I' the unwritten law to the 

certainty of a written text; from Heidelberg I pass to 
Berlin, where 1 Listen to the grave lecture and mingle 



Ti;ir.lTi; TO THE LATE JOSEPB BTOEY. 1 \~< 

in the social circle of Savigny, so stately in person and 
peculiar in countenance, whom all the continenl of Eu- 
rope delights to honor; bul my heart and my judgment, 
untravelled, fondly turn with new love and admiration 
to my Cambridge teacher and friend. Jurisprudence 
has many arrows in her quiver, but where is one to 
compare with thai which is now spent in the earth '. 

The tame of the Jurist is enhanced by various at- 
tainments superinduced upon Learning in the law. His 
"Miscellaneous Writings" show a thoughtful mind, 
imbued with elegant literature, warm with kindly senti- 
ments, commanding a style of rich and varied eloquence. 
Many passages from these have become commonplaces 
of our schools. In early life he yielded to the fasci- 
nations of the poetic muse; and here the great law- 
yer may find companionship with Selden, who is in- 
troduced by Suckling into the "Session of the Poets" 
as- hard by the chair," — with Blackstone, whose " Fare- 
well to his Muse" shows his fondness for poetic pas- 
tures, even while his eye was directed to the heights of 
the law, — and also with Mansfield, whom Pope has 
lamented in familiar words, 

"How Bweel an Ovid Murray! was our boast." 

I have now before me, in his own handwriting, some 
verses written by him in L833, entitled, " Advice to a 
Young Lawyer." As they cannot fail to be read with 
interest, I introduce them here. 

" Whene'er yon Bpeak, remember every ci 
Stands not on eloquence, but stands on laws; 

ant iii matter, in expression brief, 
Let every sentence stand with bold 

tfling points nor time nor talents w 
A sad offence to learning and to t 

VOL. I. 7 J 



1-46 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

Nor deal with pompons phrase, nor e'er supposo 
Poetic flights belong to reasoning prose. 
Loose declamation may deceive the crowd, 
And seem more striking as it grows more loud; 
But sober sense rejects it with disdain, 
As naught but empty noise, and weak as vain. 
The froth of words, the schoolboy's vain parade 
Of books and eases (all his stock in trade), 
The pert conceits, the eunning tricks and play 
Of low attorneys, strung in long array, 
The unseemly jest, the petulant reply, 
That chatters on, and cares not how nor why, 
Studious, avoid: unworthy themes to scan, 
They sink the speaker and disgrace the man; 
Like the false lights by flying shadows east, 
Scarce seen when present, and forgot when past. 

" Begin with dignity; expound with grace 
Each ground of reasoning in its time and place; 
Let order reign throughout ; each topic touch, 
Nor urge its power too little or too much; 
Give each strong thought its most attractive view, 
In diction clear, and yet severely true; 
And as the arguments in splendor grow, 
Let each reflect its light on all below. 
When to the close arrived, make no delays 
By petty flourishes or verbal plays, 
But sum the whole in one deep, solemn strain, 
Like a strong current hastening to the main." 

Bui the jurist, rich with the spoils of time, the ex- 
alted magistrate, the orator, the writer, all vanish when 
I think of the friend. Much as the world may admire 
his memory, all who knew him will love it more. Who 
can forgel his bounding step, his contagious laugh, his 
exhilarating voice, his beaming smile, his countenance 
thai shone like a benediction ( What pen can describe 
these? Wha1 canvas or marble can portray them ? He 
was always the friend of the young, who never tired in 
listening to his mellifluous discourse. Nor did they 
ever leave his presence without a warmer glow of virtue, 



TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STOBY. 147 

a more inspiring love of knowledge, and more generous 
impulses of action. I remember him in my childhood ; 
but I first knew him after he came to Cambridge as 
Professor, while I was yel an undergraduate, and now 
recall freshly, as if the words were of yesterday, the 
eloquence and animation with which at thai time he 
enforced upon a youthful circle the beautiful truth, that 
«,, man stands in the way of another. The world is 
wide enough for all, he said, and no success which may 
crown our neighbor can affect our own career. In this 
spirit he ran his race on earth, without jealousy, without 
envy, — nay, more, overflowing with appreciation and 
praise of labors which compared humbly with his own. 
In conversation he dwelt with fervor upon all the top- 
ics which interest man, — not only upon law, but upon 
literatim', history, human character, the affairs of every 
day, — above all, upon the great duties of life, the rela- 
tions of men to each other, to country, to God. High 
in his mind, above all human opinions and practices, 
were the everlasting rules of Bight; nor did he ever 
rise to truer eloquence than when condemning, as I 
have more than once heard him recently, that evil sen- 
timent, "Our country, right or wrong" which, in what- 
soever form of language it may disguise itself, assails 
the very foundations of justice, and virtue. 

He was happy in life, happy also in death. It was 
his hope, expressed in health, that he should not be 
allowed to linger superfluous on the stage, nor waste 
under the slow progress of disease. He was always 
ready to meet Ins Cod. His wishes were answered. 
Two davs before his last illness he was in Court, and 
delivered an elaborate judgment on a complicated 
in equity. Since his death another judgment in a case 



148 TRIBUTE TO THE LATE JOSEPH STORY. 

already argued before him lias been found among his 
papers, ready to be pronounced. 

I saw him for a single moment on the evening pre- 
ceding his illness. It was an accidental meeting away 
from his own house, — the last time that the open air 
fanned his cheeks. His words of familiar, household 
greeting still linger in my ears, like an enchanted mel- 
ody. The morning sun saw him on the bed from which 
he never ruse. 

Thus closed, after an illness of eight days, in the 
bosom of his family, without pain, surrounded by 
friends, a life which, through various vicissitudes of 
disease, had been spared beyond the grand climacteric, 
that Cape of Storms in the sea of human existence. 

" Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit, 
Nulli flebilior quam mihi." 

He is gone, and we shall see him no more on earth, 
excepl in his works, and the memory of his virtues. 
The scales of justice, which he so long held, have fallen 
from his hand. The untiring pen of the Author rests 
at last. The voice of the Teacher is mute. The foun- 
tain, which was ever flowing and ever full, is stopped. 
The lips, on which the bees of Hybla might have rested, 
will no more distil their honeyed sweets. The manly 
form, warm with all the affections of life, with love lor 
family and friends, for truth and virtue, is now cold in 
death. The justice of nations is eclipsed; the life of 

the law is suspended. But let us listen in the words 

which, though de;id, he utters from the grave : " Sorrow 
not as those without hope." The righteous judge, the 
wise teacher, tin' faithful friend, the Loving father, has 
ascended to his Judge, his Teacher, his Friend, his 
Father to Eeaven. 



THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. 

SPEEcn at a Public Meeting in Faneuil Hall, Boston, against 
tiii; Admission ok Tkxas as a Slave Si 

,\h\ i \n-.i i: I. LS |."i. 



'I'm officers of tlii- meeting were Hon. Charles Francis Adam-, Presi- 
dent; James M. Whiton, Charles G. Hovey, and William I. Bowditch, 
Btaries. The President made a Bpeech on taking the chair, lie 
«;i- followed by Hon. John <;. Palfrey, Charles Sumner, Wendell 
Phillips, I!,, ,,\ 15. Stanton, George S. Hillard, Rev. William II. Chan- 
ning, and William Lloyd Garrison. The meeting was thus sympatheti- 
cally described by the Liberator: — 

" Faneuil Hall next had a meeting, mure worthy of its fame than the 
one which was held in it on Tuesday evening last, to set the hall in mo- 
tion for another grand rally of the freemen of the North against the ad- 
mission ot Texas into the I'nion as a Slave State. The weather was ex- 
tremely nnpropitions, — the rain pouring down violently, the thunder 
roaring, and the lightning blazing vividly at intervals, — emblematic "i 
the present moral and political aspects of the country." 

The Daily Times, a democratic paper of Boston, in its account of 
the meeting made the severe storm play an important part. Here is 
BOmething ot' v. hat it .-aid : — 

"The element- seemed determined not to sanction any such traitor- 
like movement, and interposed every obstacle to it- success. It was 
proper that Buch a foul project should have foul weather a- an accompa- 
niment. The night was dark, and so were the designs contemplated." 
To oppose the extension of slavery was traitor-like, fad, and dark. 

The Resolutions adopted at the meet in -were drawn by Mr. Sumner, 
although introduced by another. They were the first political resolutions 

ever drawn by him, a- the speech which follows was the first political 

speech ever made hy him. The Resolutions, while condemning Blavery 
and denouncing the plan t<> secure it- predominance in the National 
Government, start with the annunciation of Equal Rights and Hu 



150 THE WEONG OF SLAVERY. 

Brotherhood of all Men, as set forth in the Declaration of Independence, 
which Mr. Sumner always, from beginning to end, made the founda- 
tion of his arguments, appeals, and aspirations. 

'• Whereas the Government and Independence of the United States are 
founded on the adamantine truth of Equal Rights and the Brotherhood of 
all Men, declared on the 4th of July, 1776, a truth receiving new and con- 
stant recognition in the progress of time, and which is the great lesson 
from our country to the world, in support of which the founders toiled and 
bled, and on account of which we, their children, bless their memory, — 

u And whereas it is essential to our self-respect as a nation, and to our 
fame in history, that this truth, declared by our fathers, should not be im- 
peached or violated by any fresh act of their children, — 

" And whereas the scheme for the annexation of Texas as a Slave State, be- 
gun in stealth and fraud, and carried on to confirm Slavery and extend its 
bounds, in violation of the fundamental principle of our institutions, is not 
consummated, and may yet be arrested by the zealous and hearty co-opera- 
tion of all who sincerely love their country and the liberty of mankind, — 

" And whereas this scheme, if successful, involves the whole country, Free 
States as well as slave-owners, in one of the two greatest crimes a nation 
can commit, and threatens to involve them in the other, — namely, Slavery 
anil unjust War, — Slavery of the most revolting character, and War to sus- 
tain Slavery, — 

" And whe?-eas the State Constitution of Texas, which will soon be submit- 
ted to Congress for adoption or rejection, expressly prohibits the Legisla- 
ture, except under conditions rendering the exception practically void, from 
enacting any law for the emancipation of slaves, and for the abolition of 
the slave-trade between Texas and the United States, thereby reversing en- 
tirely the natural and just tendency of our institutions towards Freedom, — 

•• And whereas the slaveholders seek annexation for the purpose of increas- 
ing tin- market ofhuman flesh, and for extending and perpetuating Slavery, — 

-And whereas, by the triumph of this scheme, and by creating new Slave 
States within the limits of Texas, the slaveholders seek to control the politi- 
cal power of the majority of freemen represented in the Congress of the 
I 'iii'.n : — 

•• Tin refore be it resolved, in the name of God, of Christ, and of Humanity, 
that we, I" ill political parties, ami reserving all other reasons of 

objection, unite in protest against the admission of Texas into this Union as 
a Slave State. 

"Resolved, That tie- people of Massachusetts will continue to resist the 
animation of this wicked purpose, winch will cover tin- country with 
disgrace, and make us responsible for crime- of gigantic magnitude. 

" Resolved, That we have the fullest confidence that the Senators and Rep- 
resentatives of Massachusetts in Congress «ill never consent to the admis- 
sion of Texas a- a Slave State, hut by voice and vote w r ill resist this fatal 
measure to the utmost at i 



THE WBONG OF BIAVBEY. 1 •" 1 

"And furthermore, tohereaa the Congress of the United States, by assum- 
ing to conneel this country with a foreign Btate, have already involved the 
people of the Free States in great expenditure for the protection of the 
usurped territory by force of arm- on Bea and land, — 

u And whereas a still greater outlay may hereafter be incurred to main- 
tain by violence what is held by wrong: — 

u Rtaohea\ That we protest against the policy of enlisting the strength of a 

free] pie to sustain by physical force a measure urged with the criminal 

purpose of perpetuating a system of Blavery at war with the fundamental 
principle of our institutions. 

"Resolved, That a committee be appointed by the chair to present copies of 
these Resolutions to the Senators and Representatives from Massachusetts, 
and also to Bend them to every Senator ami Representative in Congress 
from the Fi ' S 

Mi;. CHAIRMAN,— I could n.»t listen to the 
appropriate remarks of my friend, the Secretary 
of the Commonwealth, 1 without recalling an important 
act in his life, and feeling anew what all must feel, the 
beauty of his example in the fraternal treatment of 
slaves descended to him by inheritance, manumitting 
them as he has done, and conducting them far away 
from Slavery into these more cheerful precincts of Free- 
dom. In offering him this humble tribute, I am sure 
that I awaken a response in every heart that lias not 
ceased le. throb at the recital of an act of self-sacrifice 
and humanity, lie has done as a citizen what Massa- 
chusetts is now called to do as a State. He has di- 
vested himself of all responsibility for any accession of 
Blave property, and the State must do likewise. 

There are occasions, in the progress of affairs, when 
persons, though ordinarily opposed to each other, come 
together, and even the lukewarm, the listless, the indif- 
ferent unite heartily in a common object. Such is the 
in greal calamities, when the efforts of all are needed 
to averl a fatal blow. If the fire-bell startles us from our 

1 1 1 • . i ihn < 1. Palfrey. 



152 THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. 

slumbers, we do not ask of what faith in politics or 
religion is the unfortunate brother whose house is ex- 
posed to conflagration; it is enough that there is mis- 
fortune to he averted. In this spirit we have assern- 
bled on this inclement evening, — putting aside all dis- 
tinctions of party, — forgetting all disagreements of 
opinion, to remember one thing only, on which all are 
agreed, — renouncing all discords, to stand firm on 
one ground only, where we all meet in concord: I mean 
opposition to Texas as a Slave State. 

The scheme for the annexation of Texas, begun in 
stealth and fraud, in order to extend and strengthen 
Slavery, has not yet received the final sanction of Con- 
gress. According to the course proposed by these 
machinators, it is necessary that Texas should be for- 
mally admitted into the family of States by a vote 
of Congress, and that her Constitution should be ap- 
proved by Congress. The question will be presented 
this winter, and we would, if we could, strengthen the 
hearts and words of those by whom the measure will 
be opposed. 

Ours is no factious or irregular course. It has the 
sanction of the besl examples on a kindred occasion. 
The very question before us occurred in 1819, on the 
admission of Missouri as a Slave State. I need not 
remind you of the ardor and constancy with which this 
Mas opposed ;it the Xort h, by men of all parties, with 
scarcely a dissenting voice. One universal chorus of 
protesl thundered from the North against the forma- 
tion of what was called another block Sfofc Meetings 
were convened in all the considerable towns, — Phila- 
delphia, Trenton, NTew York, New Haven, and every- 
where throughout Massachusetts, — to make this oppo- 



THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. 153 

sition audible on the floor of Congress. At Boston, 
December the 3d, L819, a meeting without distinction 

of party, and embracing the leaders of both sides, was 
held in the State-House. That meeting, in its object, 
was precisely like tlie present. A numerous committee 
to prepare resolutions was appointed, of which William 
Eustis, afterwards Governor of Massachusetts, was chair- 
man. With him were associated John Phillips, at that 
time Presidenl of the Senate of Massachusetts, — a 
name dear t«> every friend of the slave, as father of 
him to whose eloquent voice we hope to listen to- 
night, 1 — Timothy Bigelow, Speaker of the House of 
Representatives, William Gray, Henry Dearborn, Jo- 
siah Quincy, Daniel Webster, William Ward, William 
Prescott, Thomas H. Perkins, Stephen White, Benjamin 
Pickman, William Sullivan, George Blake, David Cum- 
mins, James Savage, John Gallison, James T. Austin, 
and Henry Orne. No committee could have been ap- 
pointed better fitted to inspire the confidence of all 
sides. Numerous as were its members, they were all 
men of mark and consideration in our community. 
This committee reported the following resolutions, 
which were adopted by the meeting. 

"Resolved, as the opinion of this meeting, that the Congress 
of the United States possesses the constitutional power, upon 
the admission of any new state created beyond the limits of 
the original territory of the United States, to make the pro- 
hibition of the further extension of slavery or involuntary 
servitude in such new State a condition of its admission. 

"Resolved, That, in the opinion of this meeting, it is just 
and expedient that this power should be exercised by Con- 
gress upon the admission of all new States created beyond 
the original limits of the United States." 
i Wendell Phillips Esqi 



154 THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. 

The meeting in Boston was followed by another in Sa- 
lem, called, according to the terms of the notice, to con- 
sider " whether the immense region of country extending 
from the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean is destined to 
he the abode of happiness, independence, and freedom, 
or the wide 'prison of misery and slavery." resolutions 
were passed against the admission of any Slave State, 
being supported by Benjamin T. Pickman, Andrew Dun- 
lap, and Joseph Story, a name of authority wherever 
found. In the meeting at Worcester, Solomon Strong 
and Levi Lincoln took a prominent part. Ptesolutions 
were adopted here, " earnestly requesting their represen- 
tatives in Congress to use their unremitted exertions to 
prevent the sanction of that honorable body to any 
further introduction of slavery within the extending 
limits of the United States." By these assemblies the 
Commonwealth was aroused. To Slavery it presented 
an unbroken front. 

Since these efforts in the cause of Freedom twenty- 
five years have passed. Some of the partakers in them 
are still spared to us, — I need not add, full of years and 
honors. The larger part have been called from the duty 
of opposing slavery on earth. The samequestion which 
aroused their energies presents itself to us. Shall we 

be less faithful than they '. Will Massachusetts oppose 
a Less unbroken trout now than then '. In the lapse of 
these few years has the love of freedom diminished? 
Has sensibility to human suffering lost any of the 
keenness of its edge '. 

Let us regard the question more closely. Congress is 
asked to sanction the Constitution of Texas, which not 
only supports slavery, but contains a clause prohibiting 
the Legislature of the state from abolishing slavery. 



Tin: WBONG OF SLAVERY. L55 

In doing this, it will give a fresh stamp of legislative 
approbation to an unrighteous system ; it will assume a 
new ami active responsibility for the system; it will 
again become a dealer in human flesh, and on a gigantic 
scale. At this moment, when the conscience of man- 
kind is at last arousal to the enormity of holding a 
fellow-man in bondage, when, throughout the civilized 
world, a slave-dealer is a by-word and a reproach, we as 
a nation are aboul to become proprietors of a large 
population of slaves. Such an act, at this time, is re- 
moved from the reach of that palliation often extended 
to slavery. Slavery, we are speciously told by those 
who defend it. is nut our original sin. It was entailed 
upon us by our ancestors, so we are instructed ; and the 
responsibility is often, with exultation, thrown upon the 
mother country. Now, without stopping to inquire into 
the truth of this allegation, it is sufficient for the pres- 
ent purpose to know that by welcoming Texas as a Slave 
State we make slavery our own original sin. Here is a 
new case of actual transgression, which we cannot cast 
upon the shoulders of any progenitors, noT upon any 
mother country, distant in time or place. The Congress 
of the Tinted States, the people of the. Tinted States, 
at this day, in this vaunted period of light, will be re- 
sponsible tor it ; bo that it will he said hereafter, so long 
a- the dreadful history of Slavery is read, that in the 
present year of Christ a new and deliberate act was 
I i to confirm and extend it. 

By the presenl movement we propose no measure of 
change. We do nut offer to interfere with any institu- 
tion of the Southern States, nor to modify any law on 
tin- subject of Slavery anywhere under the < Jonstitution. 
Our movement is conservative. It is to preserve ex- 



156 THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. 

isting supports of Freedom ; it is to prevent the viola- 
tion of free institutions in their vital principles. 

Such a movement should unite in its support all but 
those few in whose distorted or unnatural vision slavery 
seems to be a great good. Most clearly should it unite 
the freemen of the North, by all the considerations of 
self-interest, and by those higher considerations founded 
on the rights of man. I cannot dwell now upon the 
controlling political influence in the councils of the 
country which the annexation of Texas will secure to 
slaveholders. This topic is of importance ; hut it yields 
to the supreme requirements of religion, morals, and 
humanity. I cannot banish from my view the great 
shame and wrong of slavery. Judges of our courts 
have declared it contrary to the Law of Nature, finding 
its support only in positive enactments of men. Its 
horrors who can tell ? Language utterly fails to depict 
them. 

By the proposed measure, we not only become par- 
ties to the acquisition of a large population of slaves, 
with all the crime of slavery, but we open a new mar- 
ket for the slaves of Virginia and the Carolinas, and 
legalise a new slave-trade. A new slave-trade! Con- 
sider this well. You cannot forget the horrors of that 
too famous "middle passage," where crowds of human 
beings, stolen, ami borne by sea far from their Mann 
African homes, are pressed on shipboard into spaces of 
smaller dimensions for each than a coffin. .Ami yet the 
deadly consequences of this middle passage are be- 
lieved to fall short of those sometimes undergone by 
the wretched coffles driven from the exhausted lands of 
the Northern Slave states to the sugar plantations near- 
er the sun of the Smith. One quartei part are said 



Tin: WBONG OF SLAVERY. 157 

a to perish in these removals. I sec them, in im- 
agination, "ii their fatal journey, chained in bands, and 
driven like cattle, leaving behind what lias become to 
them a home and a country, alas ! what a home, and 
what a country !) — husband tern from wife, ami parent 
from child, to ho sold anew into more direful captiv- 
ity. Can this take place with our consent, nay, without 
our mosl determined opposition ? It' the slave-trade is 
to receive now adoption from our country, let us have 
no part or lot in it, Let us wash our hands of this 
greal guilt. As wo read its horrors, may each of us be 
able to exclaim, with conscience void of offence, " Thou 
canst not say 1 did it." God forbid that the votes and 
voices of Northern freemen should help to hind anew 
the fetters of the slave! God forbid that the lash of 
the slave-dealer should descend by any sanction from 
New England ! God forbid that the blood which spurts 
from the lacerated, quivering flesh of the slave should 
soil the hem of the white garments of Massachusetts ! 

Voices of discouragement reach us from other parts 
of the country, and even from our own friends in this 
bracing air. We arc told that all exertion will he vain, 
and that the admission of a new Slave State is "a 
foregone conclusion." But this is no reason why we 
should shrink from duty. "I will try," was the re- 
sponse of an American officer on the field of battle. 
" England expect- every man to do his duty," was the 
signal of the British admiral. Ours is a contest holier 
than those which aroused these stirring words. Let us 
try. Let every man anion- us do his duty. 

And suppose New England stands alone in these 
efforts; suppose Massachusetts stands alone : is it not a 
noble isolation ? is it not the post of honor ? Is it not 



158 THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. 

the position where she will find companionship with all 
that is great and generous in the past, — with all the 
disciples of truth, of right, of liberty ? It has not been 
her wont on former occasions to inquire whether she 
should stand alone. Your honored ancestor, Mr. Chair- 
man, who from these walls regards our proceedings to- 
il ight, did nut ask whether Massachusetts would be 
alone, when she commenced that opposition which ended 
in the independence of the Thirteen Colonies. 

Bui we cannot fail to accomplish great good. It is 
in obedience to a prevailing law of Providence, that no 
act of self-sacrifice, of devotion to duty, of humanity 
can fail. It stands forever as a landmark, from which 
at least to make a new effort. Future champions of 
equal rights and human brotherhood will derive new 
strength from these exertions. 

Let Massachusetts, then, be aroused. Let all her 
children be summoned to this holy cause. There are 
questions of ordinary politics in which nun may re- 
main neutral; but neutrality now is treason to liberty, 
to humanity, and to the fundamental principles of 
free institutions. Let her united voice, with the ac- 
cumulated echoes of freedom that till this ancient 
hall, go forth with comfort and cheer to all who labor 
in the same cause everywhere throughout the land. 
Let it help to confirm the wavering, and to reclaim 
those who have erred from the righl path. Especially 
may it exert a proper influence in Congress upon the 
representatives of the Free States. May it serve to 
make them as linn in the defence of Freedom as their 
opponents are pertinacious in the cause of Slavery. 

.Massachusetts must continue foremost in the cause of 
I reedom ; nor can her children yield to deadly dalliance 



THE WRONG OF SLAVERY. L59 

with Slavery. They must resist a1 all times, and be fore- 
armed against the fatal influence. There is a story of the 
magnetic mountain which drew ou1 the iron bolts of a 
ship, though at a great distance. Slavery is such a moun- 
tain, and too often draws out the iron bolts of represen- 
tatives. There is another story of the Norwegian mael- 

ii, which, after sucking a ship into its vortex, whirls 
the victim round and round until it is dashed in pieces. 
Slavery is such a maelstrom. Representatives must 
continue sate and firm, notwithstanding magnetic moun- 
tain or maelstrom. Bui this can be only by following 
those principles for which Massachusetts is renowned 

A precious incident in the life of one whom our coun- 
try has delighted to honor furnishes an example for 
imitation. When Napoleon, already at the pinm 
of military honor, hut lusting for perpetuity of power, 
caused a vote to be taken on the question, whether he 
should ho First Consul for life, Lafayette, at that time 
in retirement, and only recently, by his intervention, 
liberated from the dungeons of Olmiitz, deliherately 

tered Ins X,,. Afterwards revisiting our shores, the 
,•■ of his youthful devotion to freedom, and recen ing 
on all sides that beautiful homage of thanksgiving which 
is of it-elf an all-sufficient answer to the sarcasm that 
republics are ungrateful, here in Boston, this illustrious 
Frenchman listened with especial pride to the felicitation 
addressed to him a- "the man who knew so well how- 
to say y<>." Be this the example for Massachusetts; 
and may it he among her praises hereafter, that on 
this occasion she knew so well how to say XO ! 



EQUAL RIGHTS IN THE LECTURE-ROOM. 

Letter to the Committee of the New Bedford Lyceum, 
November 29, 1845. 



After accepting an invitation to lecture before, the Lyceum at New 
Bedford, Mr. Simmer, learning that colored persons were denied mem- 
bership and equal opportunities with white persons, refused to lecture, 
as appears in the following Letter, which was published in the papers of 
the time. 

Shortly afterwards the obnoxious rule was rescinded, and Mr. Sum- 
ner lectured. 

Boston, November 29, 1845. 

MY DEAE SIR, — I have received your favor of 
November 24, asking me to appoint an evening in 
February or March to lecture before the New Bedford 
Lyceum, in pursuance of my promise. 

On receiving the invitation of your Lyceum, I felt 
flattered, and, in undertaking to deliver a lecture at some 
time, to be appointed afterwards, 1 promised myself 
peculiar pleasure in an occasion of visiting a town which 
1 had never seen, but whose refined hospitality and lib- 
eral spirit, as described to me, awakened my warmest 
interest. 

Since then I have read in the public prints a protest, 
purporting to he by gentlemen wed known to me by 
reputation, who are members of the Lyceum, and some 
of them pari of its government, from which it appears 
thai in former years tickets of admission were freely 
sold to colored persons, as t,, white persons, and that no 



EQUAL RIGHTS IX THE LECTUBE-ROOM, 1G1 

objection was made to them as members, bu.1 that at the 
present time tickets are refused to colored persons, and 
membership is also refused practically, though, by spe- 
cial vote recently adopted, they arc allowed to attend 
the lectures without expense, pm\ ided t hey will sit in 
the north gallery. 

Prom these facts it appears thai the New Bedford Ly- 
ceum has undertaken within its jurisdiction to establish 
a distinction of Caste not recognized before. 

One of the cardinal truths of religion and freedom is 
the Equality and Brotherhood of Man. In the sight of 
God and iif all just institutions the white man can claim 
qo precedence or exclusive privilege from his color. It 
is the accident of an accident that places a human soul 
beneath the dark shelter of an African countenance, 
rather than benea th our colder complexion. Nor can I 
conceive any application of the divine injunction, Do 
unto other's as you would have them do unto you, 
more pertinent than to the man who founds a discrimi- 
nation between his fellow-men on difference of skin. 

It is well known that the prejudice of color, which 
i- akin to the stern and selfish spirit that holds a 
fellow-man in slavery, is peculiar to our country. It 
does not exist in other civilized countries. In France 
colored youths at college have gained the highest hon- 
ors, and been welcomed a- if they \wre white. At 
the Law School there 1 have sat with them mi the same 
benches. In Italy I have seen an Abyssinian mingling 
with monks, and there was no apparent suspicion on 
either side of anything open to question. All this was 
Christian: so it seemed to me. 

In lectin in- before a Lyceum which has introduced 
the prejudice of color among its laws, and thus formal- 



1G2 EQUAL RIGHTS IN THE LECTURE-ROOM. 

ly reversed an injunction of highest morals and politics, 
1 might seem to sanction what is most alien to my soul, 
and join in disobedience to that command which 
teaches that the children of earth are all of one blood. 
I cannol do this. 

I beg, therefore, to be excused at present from ap- 
pointing a day to lecture before your Lyceum ; and 1 
pray you to lay this letter before the Lyceum, that the 
ground may be understood on which I deem it my duty 
to decline the honor of appearing before them. 

I hope you will pardon the frankness of this commu- 
nication, and believe me, my dear Sir, 

Very faithfully yours, 

CHARLES SUMNER. 

To the Chairman of the Committee i 
of the New Bedford Lyceum. \ 



PRISONS VXD rBISON DISCIPLINE/ 

Article from the Christian Examiner, January, 1846. 



IT is with a feeling of deference that we welcome 
Miss Oix's • Remarks on Prisons and Trison Disci- 
j>lim . Bter peculiar labors for humanity, and her 
renunciation of the refined repose which has such at- 
tractions for her sex, to go aboul doing good, enduring 
tin' hardships of travel, the vicissitudes of the chang- 

* 1. Remarks on Prisons and Prison Discipline in the United Slates. By 
D. L. lux. Second Edition. Philadelphia. 1845. 8vo. pp. 108. 

2. Nineteenth Annual Report of the Board of Managers of the Prison Dis- 
cipline Society. Boston. 1844. 8vo. pp. 116. 

3. Prisons and Pi-isoners. By Joseph Adshead. With Illustrations. 
London. 1845. 8vo. pp. 320. 

4. Report of the Surveyor- General of Prisons on the Construction, Ventila- 
tion, and Details of the Pentonville Prison. London. 1844. fol. pp.80. 

5. Revut Peniteniiaire des Institutions Preventives, bous la Direction de M. 
Mobeau-Chbistophe. Tom. H Paris. 1845. 8vo. pp.659. 

6. I>u Prqji i a\ Loi sur la Jieforme des Prisons. Par M. I.k<>n Fauchi b. 
Paris. 1844. 

7. Considerations sur la Reclusion TndmidueUt des Detenus. P:ir W. II. 
Si i:in(.ak. Tradnitdn Hollandais sur la seconde Edition. Pr£c£dees d'une 
Preface, et Buiviea dn Resume" de la Question P&ritentiaire, par L. M. Mo- 
keau-Cheistophe. Paris et Amsterdam. L848. 8vo. pp.181. 

8. Nordameril u Sittliche Zustdnde. (The Moral Condition <>f North 

i.) Von Dr. N. H. Julius. 2 Bande. Leipzig. 1889. Svo. 

9. Archiv des Crintinalrechts, herausgegeben von den Professoren Abego, 

BlRNBAUM, Hill '111:. MlTTEBMAIER, WaCHTEB, ZACBABIA. t A ivhives 

of Criminal Law, edited by l'i i' — rs Abego, etc.) Halle. 1843. 12ino. 
pp. 697. 



164 PEISONS AND TRISON DISCIPLINE. 

ing season, ami, more trying still, tlie coldness of the 
world, awaken towards her a sense of gratitude, and 
invest her name with an interest which must attach 
to anything from her pen. 

The chosen and almost exclusive sphere of woman is 
home, in the warmth of the family hearth. Earely is she 
able to mingle with effect in the active labors which 
iiilluence mankind. With incredulity we admire the 
feminine expounder of the Roman law, illustrating by 
her lectures the Universities of Padua and Bologna, — 
and the charities of St. Elizabeth of Hungary are leg- 
endary in the dim distance ; though, in our own day. 
the classical productions of the widow of Wyttenbach, 
crowned Doctor of Philosophy by the University of 
Marburg, and most especially the beautiful labors of 
Mrs. Fry, recently closed by death, are examples of the 
sway exerted by the gentler sex beyond the charmed 
circle of domestic life. .Among these Miss Dix will 
receive a place which her modesty would forbid her to 
claim. Her name will be enrolled among benefactors. 
It w r ill be pronounced wit h gratitude, when heroes in 
the strifes of politics and of war are disregarded or for- 
gotten. 

" Can we forget the generous few 
Who, touched with human woe, redressive sought 
Into the horror- of the gloomy jail, 
Unpitied and unheard, where misery moan?, 
Where sickness pines? " 

Miss Dix's labors embrace penitentiaries, jails, alms- 
houses, poor-houses, and asylums for the insane, through- 
out the Northern and Middle States, — all of which she 
has nsited, turning a face of gentleness towards crime. 
comforting the unfortunate, softening a hard lot, sweet- 
ening a bitter cup, while she obtained information of 



PBISONS AM> PEISOH DISCIPLINE. L65 

their condition calculated to awaken the attention of 
the public. This labor of Love she has pursued ear- 
nestly, devotedly, sparing neither time nor strength, neg- 
lecting no person, abject or lowly, frequenting the cells 
of all, and by word and deed seeking to strengthen their 
hearts. The melody of her voice still sounds in our 
ears, as, standing in the long corridor of the Philadelphia 
Penitentiary, she read a Psalm of consolation ; aor \\ ill 
that scene be effaced quickly from the memory of any 
then present. Eer Memorials, addressed to the Legis- 
latures of different States, ha\ e divulged a muss of facts, 
derived from personal and most minute observation, 
particularly with regard to the treatment of the insane, 
which must arouse the sensibilities of a humane people. 
In herself alone she is a whole Prison Discipline So- 
ciety. To her various efforts maybe applied, without 
exaggeration, those magical words in which Burke com- 
memorated the kindred charity of Howard, when he 
says that he travelled, "not to survey the sumptuous- 
ness of palaces or the stateliness of temples, not to 
make accurate measurements of the remains of ancient 
grandeur nor to form a scale of the curiosity of mod- 
ern art, not to collect medals or collate manuscripts, 
but to dive into the depths of dungeons, to plunge 
into the infection of hospitals, to survey the man- 
sions of sorrow and pain, to take the gauge and dimen- 
sions of misery, depression, ami contempt, to remember 
the forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the 
forsaken, and to compare and collate the distresses of 
all men." 

Her" Remarks" contain general results on different 
points connected with the discipline of prison- : as. 
the duration of sentences; pardons and the pardoning 



1GG PRISONS AND TIIISON DISCIPLINE. 

power ; diet of prisoners ; water ; clothing ; ventilation ; 
heat; health ; visitors' fees ; dimensions of lodging-cells 
in the State penitentiaries ; moral, religious, and general 
instruction in prisons; reformation of prisoners; peni- 
tentiary systems of the United States ; and houses of 
refuge for juvenile offenders. It would he interesting 
and instructive to examine the conclusions on all these 
important topics having the sanction of her disinter- 
ested experience; but our limits restrict us, on the 
present occasion, to a single topic. 

We are disposed to take advantage of the interest 
Miss Dix's publication may excite, and also of her name, 
which is an authority, to say a few words on a question 
much agitated, and already the subject of many books, 
— the comparative merits of what are called the Penn- 
sylvania and Auburn Penitentiary Systems. This ques- 
tion is, perhaps, the most important of all that grow out 
of Prisons; for it affects, in a measure, all others. It 
involves both the construction of the prison, and its 
administration. 

The subject of Prison Discipline, and particularly the 
question between the two systems, has of late years oc- 
cupied the attention of jurists and philanthropists in no 
ordinary degree. The discussion has been conducted in 
all the languages of Europe, to such an extent that the 
titles alone of the works would occupy considerable 
space in a volume of Bibliography. We have before 
us, for instance, a list of no less than eleven in Italian. 
Bui we must go back to the last century, if we would 
trace the origin of the controversy. 

To Howard, a man of true greatness, whose name 
will stand high on the roll of the world's benefactors, 
belongs the signal honor of first awakening the sympa- 



PRISONS AND PBISON DISCIPLINE. L67 

tides of the English j pie in this work of benevolence. 

By his travels and labors he became familiar with the 
actual character of prisons, and was enabled to spread 
before the public an accumulation of details which lill 
the reader with horror and disgust. The condition of 
prisons at that time in England was appalling. Of 
course there was no system; nor was there any civil- 
ization in the treatment of prisoners. Everything was 
bad. As there was no care, so there was no cleanliness, 
on which so much depends, and there was no classifica- 
tion or separation of any kind. All commingled, so 
that the uncleanness of one befouled all, and the wick- 
edness of one contaminated all. While this continued, 
all hope of reform was vain. Therefore, with especial 
warmth, Eoward pleaded for the separation of prisoners, 
especially a1 night, " wishing to have so many small 
rooms or cabins that each criminal may sleep alone," ' 
and called attention to the fad he had observed in Hol- 
land, that " in most of the prisons for criminals there 
are so many rooms that each prisoner is kept sepa- 
rate." 2 

The importance of the principle of separation was 
first recognized at Rome, as long ago as 1703, by Clem- 
ent XI., in the foundation of the Hospital of St. Michael, 
or the Eouse of Refuge, where a separate dormitory 
was provided for each prisoner. Over the portal of 
tins asylum, in letters of gold, were inscribed the words 
of wisdom which Howard adopted as the motto of his 
labors, and which indicate the spirit that should preside 
oveT the administration of all prisons: Parum est im- 
probos coercere pcena, nisi probos ejjicias disciplina, — It 
is of small consequence to coerce the wicked by pun- 

l Howard, State of the Prisons, p. 22. 2 ibid., p. 45. 



1G8 PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

ishment, unless you make them good by discipline. 
The first and most important step in this discipline is 
to remove prisoners from all evil influence, — which can 
be done only by separation from each other, and by 
Idling their time with labor. 

In furtherance of this principle, and that he might 
reduce it to practice, Howard, in conjunction with Sir 
William Blackstone, as early as 1779, drew an Act of 
Parliament, the preamble to the fifth section of which 
is an enunciation of the cardinal truth at the founda- 
tion of all effective prison discipline. 

" Whereas," says the Act, " if many offenders, con- 
victed of crimes for which transportation hath been 
usually inflicted, were ordered to solitary imprisonment, 
accompanied by well-regulated labor and religious instruc- 
tion, it might be the means, under Providence, not only 
of deterring others from the commission of the like 
crimes, but also of reforming the individuals" etc. No- 
Mr winds ! Here, for the first time in English legislation, 
the reformation of the prisoner is proposed as a distinct 
object. This Act, though passed, was unfortunately 
never carried into execution, through the perverseness, 
it is said, of one of the persons associated with Howard 
as commissioner for erecting a suitable prison. 

As early as 1700 a law was passed in Pennsylvania, 
which is of importance in the history of this subject, 
showing appreciation of the principle of seclusion 
with labor. In the preamble it is declared, thai pre- 
vious laws for the punishment of criminals had failed 
of success, " from the communication with each other 
not being sufficiently restrained within the places of 
confinement, and it is hoped that the addition of unre- 
mitted solitude to laborious employment, as far as it can 



PRISONS A\l> PBISOH DISCIPLINE. L69 



ae- 



be effected, will contribute as much to reform as to 
ter" ; and the Act further prc\ ides, thai certain persons 
shall be "kept separate and apart from each other, as 
much as the convenience of the building will admit." 
The principle of separation, when first announced by 
Howard, and practically attempted in Pennsylvania, was 
imperfectly understood, li was easy to see the impor- 
tance of separation ; bul how should it be applied '. In 
Pennsylvania it was attempted at first with such rigor 
as to justify its designation as the Solitary System. 
But as the new penitentiary in Philadelphia was about to 
be occupied, a law was passed providing that after July 
1st, L 829, convicts should, "instead of the penitentiary 
punishments heretofore prescribed, be sentenced to suffer 
punishment by separate or solitary confinement at la- 
bor"] and there is further provision for "visits to the 
prisoners." Here were the two elements, — first, of la- 
bor, and, secondly, of visits. In pursuance of this Art, 
that penitentiary was organized at Philadelphia which 
afforded the firsl example on an extended scale of the alt- 
solute separation of convicts from each other, combined 
with labor. And this penitentiary has given its name 
to the class of prisons founded on this principle. 

It should be borne in mind that this system is dis- 
tinguishable from one of solitary confinement with labor, 
— much more from one of mere solitary confinement 
without labor. An intemperate opponent, too rash or 
prejudiced to recognize all the truth, has often charac- 
terized the present Pennsylvania system as the Solitary 
System, and by this term not unfrequently aroused a 
feeling against it which must disappear before a candid 
inquiry. It is easy to condemn any system of absolute 
solitude' without solace of labor or society. The exam- 



170 PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

pies of history rise in judgment against such. "Who can 
forget tlic Bastile '. We have the testimony of Lafay- 
ette, whose own further experience at Olmutz should 
not be neglected, as to its effect. "I repaired to the 
scene," he says, " on the second day of the demolition, 
and found that all the prisoners had been deranged by 
their solitary confinement, except one. He had been a 
prisoner twenty-five years, and was led forth during the 
height of the tumultuous riot of the people, whilst en- 
gaged in tearing down the building. He looked around 

DO O O 

with amazement, for he had seen nobody for that space 
of time, and before night he was so much affected that 
he became a confirmed maniac." But the Bastile is not 
the only prison whose stones, could they speak, would 
tell this fearful tale ; nor is Lafayette the only re- 
porter. 

Names often have the importance of things; and it 
cannot be doubted that the ignorant or dishonest appli- 
cation of the term solitary to the Pennsylvania system 
is a strong reason for the opposition it has encoun- 
tered. 

The Separate System has but one essential condition, 
■ — the absolute separation of prisoners from intercourse 
of any kind with each other. On this may be engrafted 
Labor, instruction, and even constant society with offi- 
cers of the prison, or with virtuous persons. In fact, 
these have become, in greater or less degree, component 
parts of the system. In constant employment the pris- 
oner finds peace, and in the society with which he is 
indulged innocenl relaxation and healthy influence. 
This is the Pennsylvania system. 

There is another and rival system, first established in 
the Maison de Force at Ghent, but borrowing its name 



PBISONS AMi PRISON DISCIPLINE. J 71 

from the Auburn Penitentiary of New York, where it 
was first introduced in L816, by a remarkable discipli- 
narian, Elam Lynds. Sere the prisoners are separated 
only ;ii night, each sleeping in a small cell or dormitory 
by himself. During the day they labor together in 
shops, or in the open air, according to the nature of the 
work, — being prohibited from speaking to each other, 

under pain of punishment. Pr the latter feature 

this is often called the Silent System. As its chief 
peculiarity, in contradistinction to the Separate System, 
is the working of prisoners in assemblies, where all see 
and are seen, it may be more properly designated the 
Congregate SysU m. 

Such, in brief, are these two systems, which, it will be 
observed, both aim at the same object, the separation of 
prisoners so that they can have no intercourse with each 
other. In the one this end is attained by their physical 
separation from each other both oight and day; in the 
other, by such separation at night, with untiring watch 
by day to prevent intercourse. Of course, separation by 
the i longregate system is less complete than by the other. 
Conversation by words may be restrained ; though it is 
now admitted that uo guardian can be sufficiently watch- 
ful to intercept on all occasions those winged messen- 
gers. The extensive unspoken, unwritten language of 
signs, the expression of the countenance, the movements 
of the body, may telegraph from convicl to convid 
thoughts of stubbornness, hatred, or revenge. 

[f separation be desirable, should it nol be comp] 
Should not the conducting wires lie broken, so that no 
electrical spark may propagate its disturbing force >. 
But the very pains taken in the Congregate system to 
insure silence by day and separation by nighl answer 



172 PRISONS AND TPJSON DISCIPLINE. 

this question. Thus, by strange inconsistency, the advo- 
cates of the Congregate system seek to entbre separation. 
Wedded to an imperfect practice, they recognize the 
correct principle. 

Before proceeding farther with this comparison it is 
proper to glance at the real objects of prison discipline, 
that we may be better enabled to determine which sys- 
tem is best calculated to answer these objects. 

Three things are proposed by every enlightened sys- 
tem : first, to deter others from crime ; secondly, to 
prevent the offender from preying again upon society; 
thirdly, discipline and care, so far as possible to promote 
reformation. There are grounds for belief that the first 
two purposes are best attained by the Separate system ; 
but without considering these particularly, let us pass 
to the question, Which is best calculated to perform that 
truly heavenly function of reforming the offender? 

Is not the answer prompt and decisive in favor of 
that system which most completely protects the prison- 
er f mm the pernicious influence of brethren in guilt? 
It is a venerable proverb, that a man is known by the 
company he keeps; and this is a homely expression of 
t lie truth, that the character of a man is naturally in 
harmony with those about him. [f the society about 
him is virtuous, his own virtues will be confirmed and 
expanded; on the other hand, if it be wicked, then 
will the (lemon of his nature he aroused. Had qualities, 
as well as good, are quickened and strengthened under 
the influence of society. Every association of prison- 
ers must pervert, in greater or less degree, but can never 
reform, those of whom it is composed. The obdurate 
offender, perpetually brooding on evil, even though he 
utter no audible word, will impart to the congregation 



PRISONS AND PEISON DISCIPLINE. 1 (0 

something of his own hardness of heart. Arc we not 

told hy the poet, that sheep and swine take contagion 

from one of their number, and even a grape is spoiled 
by another grape '. 

•• Dedit hano contagio labem, 
F.t dabit in plures; sicut great totoa in agria 
I'niu- scabie cadit, et porrigine porci, 
Ovaque cotupt eta tivon m duck ab iiva." 1 

From the inherent nature of things, this contagion 
musl be propagated by the Congregate system, while 
the Separate system does all that man can do to restrain 
it. By the latter, as successfully administered, the pris- 
oner is, in the first place, withdrawn, so far as possible 
by human means, from all had influences, while, in the 
second place, he is brought under the operation of good 
intlnences. The mind is naturally diverted from thick- 
coming schemes of crime, and turned to thoughts of 
virtue. What in it is had, it' not entirely subdued, is 
weakened by inactivity, while the good is prompted to 
constant exercise. 

It cannot be questioned, then, on grounds of reason, 
independent of experience, that the Separate system is 
better calculated to promote that great object of Prison 
Discipline, the reformation of the offender. With this 
recommendation alone it would be entitled to the re- 
gard of all who feel that the return of a single sinner 
is blessed. 

But a further object is secured. As the prisoners 
never see one another, they leave the penitentiary, at 
the expiration of their punishment, literally unknowing 
and unknown, [n illustration of this fact, the delightful 
incident is mentioned, that the keeper of the Philadel- 
phia Penitentiary once recognized three persons at the 

1 Juv., Sat. II. 78-81. 



174 PRISONS AND PEISON DISCIPLINE. 

same place, engaged in honest labor, who had been in his 
custody as convicts, though neither knew the career of the 
othertwo. I discharged prisoners are thus enabled to slide 
back into the community, without the chilling fear of 
untimely recognition by those with whom they congre- 
gated in the penitentiary. They cannot escape the 
memory of the punishment they have endured; but the 
brand is not upon the forehead. They are encouraged 
to honest exertion by the hope of retrieving, on a distant 
spot and under a new name, the fair character they have 
lost ; while, on the other hand, if evil-minded, they have 
no associations of the prison to renew, or to stimulate to 
conspiracy against society. 

A system of Prison Discipline with these benign fea- 
tures must long ago have commended itself to general 
acceptance, it' it had not been opposed with exceptional 
ardor on grounds which, though in reality little tena- 
ble, arc calculated to exercise influence over the igno- 
rance and prejudice of men. 

The first objection is, that it is productive of insan- 
ity, from an unnatural deprivation of society. Howev- 
er just this may lie when directed against the Solitary 
system, it is inapplicable to what is called the Separate 
system, which dues not exclude the idea of society,and, 
as practically administered at Philadelphia and else- 
where, supplies both society and labor in ample meas- 
ure, [f the prisoner is not indulged with society enough, 
it is a fault in the administration of the system, and not 
in the system itself. In the publications of the Boston 
Prison Discipline Society, elaborate tables have been 
arranged showing a tendencyto insanity in tic Peniten- 
tiary at Philadelphia ; hut careful and candid inquiry 
will demonstrate that these are founded in misapprehen- 



PEISONS and PEISON DISCIPLINE. 175 

]. and will exonerate thai institution from such im- 
putation. The highest anthoritiea in medicine have dis- 
tinctly declared, thai the Separate system, if properly 
administered, with labor and conversation, docs not af- 
fect the reason. The names of Esquirol and Louis give 
to this opinion the strongest sanction of science through- 
out the civilized world. The same conclusion was af- 
firmed with precision and fervor by Lelut, in an elaborate 
memoir before the Institute of France, and also by the 
Scientific Congress assembled at Padua in L843, and at 
L i in L84 I. 

The second objection charges the Separate system 
with being unfavorable to health, as compared with the 
Congregate system. In reply we merely say, that the 
great names in medicine to which we have already re- 
ferred expressly deny that it has any influence in short- 
ening life ; while a statistical comparison of several pen- 
itentiaries conducted on the Congregate system with 
the Philadelphia Penitentiary attests the superiority of 
the latter in this respect. 

The third and last objection is founded on the in- 
ised expense of the Separate system. The Congre- 
3ystem is recommended by suggestions of economy 
and clamors of cupidity. It is said to he put into 
operation at less cost, and afterwards to support itself, 
and even to bring profit to the State. We are sorry 
to believe that this consideration has had an exten- 
sive influence. It is humiliating to suppose that Gov- 
ernment would hesitate to adopt a system founded on 

enlightened humanity because another might be had 
for less money, — counting the unworthy gain or the 
petty economy as of higher consequence than the ref- 
ormation of an offender. Such a course were unworthy 



176 PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

of our civilization. The State has sacred duties to 
the unfortunate men it takes into its custody. It 
must see not only that they receive no harm, but 
that they enjoy all means of improvement consistent 
with their condition, — that, while their bodies are 
clothed and fed, their souls are not left naked and hun- 
gry. It assumes the place of parent, and owes a parent's 
care and kindness ; or rather, when we consider that the 
State itself is child of the people, may we not say that 
it should emulate that famous Roman charity, so often 
illustrated by Art, which descended into the darkness 
of a dungeon, to afford an exuberant, health-giving 
bosom to the exhausted being from whom it drew its 
own life. 

Notwithstanding the uncompromising hostility the 
Separate system has encountered, it wins constant favor. 
Many prisons are built on this plan, and experience 
comes to confirm the suggestions of humanity and sci- 
ence. The Penitentiary at Philadelphia, which first 
proved its superiority, was followed in 1833 by one 
at Pittsburg and by a County Prison at Alleghany, 
ami in 1841 by another County Prison, on the same 
system, at Earrisburg. In L834 New Jersey followed 
the example of her neighbor State, and established a 
penitentiary on this system at Trenton. 

Commissions from foreign governments, after visiting 
the different prisons of the United States, have all re- 
ported emphatically in favor of the Separate system: as, 
that of Beaumonl and De Tocqueville to the French 
Government, in L831 ; of Mr. Crawford to the English, 
in L834; of Dr. Julius to the Prussian, in 1836, after 
a, most careful perambulation of all the prisons of the 
country ; of Demetz and Blouet to the French, in 1837, 



PRISONS AND PBISON DISCIPLINE. 177 

— being the Becond Commission from the same Gov- 
emmenl ; and of Neilson and Mondelet to the Canadian 
Government, in 1 836. 

In accordance with these recommendations, numerous 
prisons have hem buill or are now building in Europe. 
In England a model prisoD has been constructed at Pen- 
tonville, which is perhaps the best prison in theworld. 
In the late Reporl of the Surveyor-General of Prisons, 
laid on the table of Parliament during its last session, 
it was expressly declared, from the experience gained in 
the Pentonville prison, "that the separation of one pris- 
oner from another is indispensable as the basis of any 
Bound system." As long ago as L843, no less than sev- 
enteen prisons on this principle were buill ot building 
in different counties of England, and several in Scot- 
land. In France the whole subject lias undergone most 
thorough discussion by the press, and also in debate 
by the Chamber of Deputies. Among the works now 
before us is a volume of more than six hundred pages, 
tilled by a report of this debate, with notes, which 
ended in the passage of a law during the last summer 
appropriating ninety millions of francs for the building 
of thirty prisons on the Separate system. Such is the 
testimony of France and England. 

Similar testimony comes from other quarters: from 
Prussia, where five prisons on this system have been 
built; from Denmark, where ten are now building; 
from Sweden, where eighl are building under the aus- 
pices of the monarch, who, when Prince Oscar, wrote 
ably in advocacy of the Separate system; from Norway, 
where one is now building in the neighborhood of ' !hris- 
tiania : from Poland, where one has long been in ex- 
istence, and three others are nearly completed; from 

8* L 



178 PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

Hungary, where a project has been submitted to the 
Diet for the erection of ten on the Separate system ; 
from Holland, where one is about to be erected on the 
plan of Pentonville ; from Belgium, which has yielded 
to the Separate system, and has even engrafted it upon 
the famous Maison de Force at Ghent, the model of our 
Auburn Prison; from the Duchy of Nassau; from the 
Grand Duchy of Baden ; from Frankfort-on-the-Main ; 
from Hamburg; from Geneva, in Switzerland: in all 
of which prisons on this system are built or are build- 
ing. From poor, distracted Spain proceeds the same 
testimony. 

To this array of authorities and examples may be 
added two names of commanding weight in all matters of 
Prison Discipline, — Edward Livingston and Miss Dix. 
The first, whose high fortune it was to refine jurispru- 
dence by his philanthropy, as he had illumined it by 
his genius and strengthened it by his learning, in his 
Introductory Report to the Code of Prison Discipline, 
as long ago as 1827, urged with classical eloquence a 
system of " seclusion, accompanied by moral, religious, 
and scientific, instruction, and useful manual labor." 
Miss Dix, after attentive survey of different systems 
throughout our country, fervently enforces, as well in 
the publication now before us as in her Memorials, the 
merits of the Separate system, and of its administration 
in Pennsylvania. 

It mighl be said that the voices of civilized nations, 
by a rare harmony, concurred in sanctioning the Sepa- 
rate system, if the Boston Prison Discipline Society had 
not raised a persistent note of discord, which has gone 
on with a mosl unmusical crescendo. As the solitary 
champion of an imperfect system which the world is 



PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. L79 

renouncing, it has contended with earnestness, which 

has often become prejudice, and with insensibility to 
accumulating facts, which was injustice. With frank- 
ness, as with sorrow, we allude to the sinister influence 
it has exercised over this question, particularly through- 
out the Northern states. But the truth which has been 
proclaimed abroad need not be delicately minced at 
home We do not join with the recent English writer, 
who, among many harsher suggestions, speaks of the 
"misrepresentation," the "trickery," the "imposture" 3 
of the Society or its agent, — nor with Moreau-Chris- 
tophe, who says, " /. i So< UU des Prisons d Boston a jwri 
haine d mort au systhne de Philadel ph ie" ;- for we know 
well the honesty and sincere interest in the welfare of 
prisoners which animate its Secretary, and we feel per- 
suaded that he will gladly abandon the deadly war 
which he wages against the Separate system, when 
he sees it as it is now regarded by the science and 
humanity of the civilized world. But we feel that his 
exertions, which in some departments of Prison 'Disci- 
pline have been productive of incalculable good, for 
which his memory will be blessed, on this important 
question have done harm. In his Reports he has never 
1 to present all the evil of the Separate system, 
particularly as administered in Philadelphia, sometimes 
even drawing upon his imagination for facts, while he 
has carefully withheld the testimony in its favor. This 
beneficent system and its meritorious supporters are 
held np to obloquy, and the wide circle that confided 
implicitly in Ids Reports are consigned to darkness 
with regard to its true character and it- general recep- 
tion abroad. 

1 Adshead, pp. 127, 129. - Berne Penitentiaire, Tom. II. p. 589. 



180 PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

One of the most strenuous advocates of the Separate 
system at the present moment, whose work of elaborate 
argument and detail now lies before us, is Suringar, 
called sometimes the Howard of Holland, who had sig- 
nalized himself by previous opposition to it. He says, 
"I am now completely emancipated from my former 
error. This error I do not blush to confess openly. The 
same change has been wrought in the opinions of Julius 
in Prussia, of Crawford in England, of Berenger and 
Demetz in France, and of all men of good faith, who 
are moved, in their researches, only by the suggestions 
of conscience, unswayed by prejudice or pride of opin- 
ion." Perhaps in these changes of opinion the Secre- 
tary of the Boston Prison Discipline Society may find 
an example which he will not be unwilling to follow ; 
and it may be for us to welcome him as a cordial fellow- 
laborer in the conscientious support of what he has for 
a long period most conscientiously attacked. 

From this rapid survey it will be seen that our con- 
victions and sympathies are with the Separate system. 
Nothing in Prison Discipline seems clearer than the 
general duty of removing prisoners from the corrupt- 
ing influence of association, even though silent. But 
we are not insensihle to the encouragement and succor 
which prisoners migb.1 derive from companionship with 
those struggling like themselves. It was a wise remark 
of the English Professor, that "students are the best 
professors to each other"; and the experience of Mrs. 
Fainham, the matron of the female convicts at Sing- 
Sing, shows thai this same principle is not without its 
effeel even among classes of convicts. Perhaps the Sep- 
arate system might be modified, so as to admit instruc- 
tion and lahor together, in a small class, selected after a 



PBISONS AM' PBISON DISCIPLINi:. 181 

probationary period of separation, as specially worthy 
of this indulgence and confidence. Such a modification 
was contemplated and recommended by Mr. Livingston, 
and would seem to find favoi with Von Etaumei in his 
recent work on America This privilege can be im- 
parted to those only who have shown themselves so ex- 
emplary that their society seems to be uncontaminating. 
But it remains to be seen whether there is any subtile 
alchemy by which their purity may be determined, so as 
to justify a departure from the general rule of separation. 
Finally, we would commend this subject to the at- 
tention of all In the language of Sir Michael Foster, 

a judge of eminence in the last century, " No rank or 
condition of life, no uprightness of heart, no prudence 
or circumspection of conduct, should teach any man to 
conclude that he may not one day be deeply interested 
in these researches." There are considerations of self-in- 
terest which may move those who do not incline to labor 
for others, unless with ultimate advantage to themselves. 
But all of true benevolence, and justly appreciating the 
duties of the State, will join in effort for the poor pris- 
oner, deriving from his inferior condition new motives 
tn a<t inn. that it may be true of the State, as of law, 
that the very least feels its care, as the greatest is not 
exempt from its power. In the progress of an enlight- 
ened Prison Discipline, it may be hoped that our peni- 
tentiaries will become in reality, if not in name, Houses 
of Reformation, and thai convicts will be treated with 
scrupulous regard for their well-being, physical, moral, 
and intellectual, to the end, that, when they are allowed 
to mingle again with society, they may feel sympathy 
with virtue and detestation of vice, and, when wiser, 
may be better men. 



182 PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

In the promotion of this cause, the city of Boston at 
this moment occupies a position of signal advantage. 
It lias determined to erect a new county jail, and the 
plans are still under consideration. It is easy to per- 
ceive that the plan it adopts and the system of disci- 
pline it recognizes will become an example. No nar- 
row prejudice and no unworthy economy should pre- 
vent the example from being such as becomes a city of 
the wealth, refinement, and humanity of Boston. It is 
a common boast, that her schools and various institu- 
tions of beneficence are the best in the world. The 
prison about to be erected should share this boast. Let 
it be the best in the world. Let it be the model prison, 
not only to our own country, but to other countries. 
The rule of separation, considered of such importance 
among the ripe convicts of the penitentiary, is of greater 
necessity still in a prison which will receive before 
trial both innocent and guilty. From the first moment 
he is touched by the hand of the law, the prisoner 
should be cut off from all association, by word or sight, 
with fellow-prisoners. The State, as his temporary 
guardian, mindful of his weakness, owes him this pro- 
tection and this means of reformation. 

The absolute separation of prisoners, so that they can 
neither see, hear, nor touch each other, is the pole-star 
of Prison Discipline. It is the Alpha, or beginning, as 
the reformation of the offender is the Omega, or the 
end. It is this principle, when properly administered, 
which irradiates with heavenly light even the darkness 
of the dungeon, driving far away the intrusive legion of 
unclean thoughts, and introducing in their vacant place 
the purity of religion, the teachings of virtue, the solace 
of society, and the comfort of hope. In this spirit let 



PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE. 183 

us build our prisons. The jail will no longer be a 
charnel-house of Living men; the cell will erase to be 
the tomb where La buried what is move precious than 
i he body, — a human soul. From their iron gates let us 
erase that doom of despair, 

'• All hope abandon, yc who enter in," 
and inscribe words of gentleness, encouragement, love. 



TIIE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

Lecture before the Boston Lyceum, delivered in the Federal 
Street Theatre, February 18, 1846. 



" T HAVE lost a day," was the exclamation of the vir- 
_L tuous Roman Emperor, — " for on this day I have 
done no good thing." The Arch of Titus still stands 
midway between the Forum and the Colosseum, and 
the curious traveller discerns the golden candlesticks of 
conquered Judaea sculptured on its marble sides ; but 
this monument of triumph, and the memory it perpet- 
uates of the veteran legions of Rome and the twenty 
cohorts of allies before whose swords the sacred city 
yielded its life in terrible fire and blood, give not to 
the conqueror such true glory as springs from these 
words, — destined to endure long after the arch has 
crumbled to dust, and when the triumph it seeks to 
perpetuate lias passed from the minds of men. Thai 
day was not lost. On no day wast thou so great or 
beneficent as when thou gavest this eternal lesson to 
man. Across the ages it still reaches innumerable 
hearts, even as it penetrated the friendly bosoms that 
throbbed beneath its first utterance. The child learns 
it, and receives a new impulse to labor and goodness. 
There are tew, whether old or young, who do not recog- 
nize it as more than a \ Lctory. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. L85 

If I undertake to dwell on the suggestions of this 
theme, it i^ because it seems to me especially appro- 
priate to the young, al whose request I have the honor 
of appearing before you. My subject is the Value of 
Time, and the way in which it may be best employed. I 
shall attempl nothing elaborate, but simply gather to- 
gether illustrations and examples, which, though trite 
and familiar, will at least be practical. 

The value of time is one of our earliest lessons, 
taught at the mother's knee, even with the alphabet, — 
'• S is a sluggard," — confirmed by the maxims of Poor 
Richard, printed at the end of almanacs, and stamped 
on handkerchiefs, — further enforced by the examples 
of the copy-book, as the young fingers first Learn to join 
words together by the magical art of writing. Fable 
comes in aid of precept, and the venerable figure of 
Time is depicted to the receptive, almost believing, 
imagination of childhood, as winged, and also bald on 
the top and back of the head, with a single tuft of hair 
on the forehead, signifying that whoso would detain it 
must seize it by the forelock. With such lessons and 
pictures the child is trained. Moralist, preacher, and 
poet also enforce these teachings; and the improve- 
ment of time, the importance of industry, and the 
excellence of labor become commonplaces of exhorta- 
tion 

The value of time ha- passed into a proverb, — " Time 
is money." It is so because its employment brings 
money. But it is more. It is knowledge. Still more, 
it is virtue. Xor is it creditable to the character of the 
world that the proverb ha8 taken this material and 
mercenary complexion, as if money were the highest 



186 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

good and the strongest recommendation. Time is more 
than money. It brings what money cannot purchase. 
It has in its lap all the learning of the Past, the spoils 
of Antiquity, the priceless treasures of knowledge. 
Who would barter these for gold or silver ? But knowl- 
edge is a means only, and not an end. It is valuable be- 
cause it promotes the welfare, the development, and the 
progress of man. And the highest value of time is not 
even in knowledge, but in the opportunity of doing 
good. 

Time is opportunity. Little or much, it may be the 
occasion of usefulness. It is the point desired by the 
philosopher where to plant the lever that shall move 
the world. It is the napkin in which are wrapped, 
not only the talent of silver, but the treasures of knowl- 
edge and the fruits of virtue. Saving time, we save all 
these. Employing time to the best advantage, we exer- 
cise a true thrift. Here is a wise parsimony ; here is a 
sacred avarice. To each of us the passing day is of the 
same dimensions, nor can any one by taking thought 
add a moment to its hours: But though unable to ex- 
tend their duration, he may swell them with works. 

It is customary to say, " Take care of the small sums, 
and the Large \\ ill take care of themselves." With equal 
wisdom and more necessity may it be said, "Watch the 
minutes, and the hours and days Avill be safe." The 
moments are precious; they are gold filings, to be care- 
fully preserved and melted into the rich ingot. 

Time is the measure of life on earth. Its enjoyment is 
life itself. Its divisions, its days, its hours, its minutes, 
are fractions of this heavenly gift. Every moment that 
Hies over our heads takes from the future and gives to 
the irrevocable past, shortening by so much the measure 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 187 

of out days, abridging by bo much the means of useful- 
oesa committed to our hands. Before the voice which 
now addresses you shall die away in the air, another 
hour will have passed, and we shall all have advanced 
by another stage towards the final goal on earth. 
Waste or sacrifice of time is, then, waste or sacrifice 
of life itself: it is partial suicide 

The moments lust in listlessness or squandered in 
unprofitable dissipation, gathered into aggregates, are 
hours, days, weeks, months, years. The daily sacrifice 
of a single hour during a year comes a1 its end to 
thirty-six workingdays, allowing ten hours to the day, — 
an amount of time, it' devoted exclusively to one object, 
ample for the acquisition of important knowledge, and 
Pot the accomplishment of inconceivable good. Imagine, 
if you please, a solid month dedicated, without, interrup- 
tion, to a single ] air | iose, — to the study of a new language, 
an untried science, an unexplored field of history, a fresh 
department of philosophy, or to some new sphere of 
action, some labor of humanity, some godlike charity, — 
and what visions must not rise of untold accumulations 
of knowledge, of unnumbered deeds of goodness ! Who 
of us does not each day, in manifold ways, sacrifice these 
precious moment.-, these golden hours ? 

There is a Legend of Mohammed which teaches how 
much may he crowded into a moment. It is said that 
he was suddenly taken up by an angel, and borne be- 
yond the Baming bounds of -pace, where he beheld the 
wonders of Heaven and Hell, the bliss of the faithful 
and the torments of the damned in measureless variety, 
and was then returned to the spot of earth from which 
he had been lifted, — all in so short a time that the 
water had not entirely run out of the pitcher which 



188 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

he let fall from his hands when he was borne up- 
wards. But actual life furnishes illustrations of greater 
point. It is related of a celebrated French jurist, one 
of the ornaments of the magistracy, that he composed a 
Learned and important work in the quarter hours that 
draggled between dinner ordered and dinner served. 
Napoleon directed one of his generals to move on a 
battery of the enemy, although reinforcements were in 
sight, saying, " It will take them fifteen minutes to 
reach the point ; I have always observed that these 
fifteen minutes decide great battles." In the currents 
of common life they are often as decisive as in the 
heady fight. 

it would be easy, from literary and political history, 
from the lives of all who have excelled in any way, 
to accumulate illustrations of the power of industry. 
Among those who have achieved what the world calls 
greatness, the list might be extended from Julius Caesar 
to Napoleon, whose feats of labor are among the mar- 
vels of history. Nor sin mid we forget Alfred, the father 
of English civilization, whose better fame testifies also 
to the wise employment of time. Our own country, 
this very town, furnishes a renowned example in Ben- 
jamin Franklin. Eere I pronounce a name which has 
its own familiar echoes. His early studies, when a print- 
er's boy, — his singular experience of life in its ex- 
tremes, — sounding in childhood all the humilities, as 
in maturer years he reached all thai was exalted in 
place, — the truant buy become a teacher to the nations, 
and pouring lighl upon the highest schools of science 
and philosophy, touching the throne with hands once 
blackened by types and ink, —all this must be pres- 
ent to you. His firsl and constant talisman was indus- 



Till: EMPLOYMENT OF TTME. L89 

try. The autobiography in which lie has recorded his 
progress in knowledge is a remarkable composition, 
where tin' style flows like a brook of transparent water, 
without ;t ripple on its smooth surface. Perhaps no 
single book lias had greater influence in quickening 
labor and the rigid economy of time, overcoming all 
obstacles, among those whose early life has been chilled 
by penury or darkened by neglect. But we must quali- 
fy our praise. It cannot tail to be regretted that the 
lessons taught by Franklin are so little spiritual in 
their character, — that they are SO material, so mun- 
dane, so full of pounds, shillings, and pence. " The 
Almighty Hollar," now ruling here with sovereign sway 
and masterdom, was placed on the throne by Poor Rich- 
ard. "When shall it be dethroned ? When shall the 
thoughts, the aspirations, the politics of the land he 
lifted from the mere greed of gain, with an appetite 
that grows by what it feeds on, into the serene region 
of inflexible justice and universal benevolence ? ( !ould 
we imagine the thrift, the worldly wisdom, the practical 
sense, the inventive genius of Franklin, softened, exalted, 
illumined, inspired by the imagination, the grace, the 
sensibility, the heavenly spirit of Channing, we should 
behold a character under whose influence our country 
wouldadvance at once in all spiritual as well as mate- 
rial prosperity, — where money should not be the " main 
chance," but truth, justice, righteousness, drawing in 
their train all the goods of earth, and reflecting all the 
blessings of heaven Then would time be the besl ally 
of man, and no day Mould pass without sonic good 
thing done. 

Anion- the contemporaries of Franklin in England, 
unlike in the patrician circumstances of his birth, edu- 



190 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

cation, and life, most unlike in his topics of thought 
and study, but resembling him in the diligence and 
constancy of labor marking his career, was Edward Gib- 
bon, author of the History of the Decline and Fall of 
the Roman Empire. He also has left behind an auto- 
biography, — in style and tone how unlike the simple 
narrative of Franklin ! — where in living colors are de- 
picted the labors and delights of a scholar's life. This 
book has always seemed to me, more than any other in 
the English language, calculated to enkindle the love 
of learning, and to train the student for its pursuit. 
Here he will find an example and guide in the various 
fields of scholarship, who will challenge his admiration 
in proportion as he shares the same generous aspiration. 
The autobiographies of Gibbon and Franklin are comple- 
ments of each other. They teach the same lesson of 
labor and study in different spheres of life and to dif- 
ferent classes of minds. Both have rare excellence 
as compositions, and constitute important contributions 
to thai literature which illustrates the employment of 
time. 

There is another character, of our own age whose ex- 
ample is, perhaps, more direct and practical, especially 
as described by himself: I mean William Cobbett. To 
appreciate this example, you must know something of 
his long life, from curly and inauspicious youth to vener- 
able years, filled always with labors various, incessant, 
and Eerculean, under which his elastic nature seemed to 
with renewed strength. He died in L835, supposed 
to lie seventy-three years of age, although the exact 
date of his birth was never known, and such was the 
position lie had acquired that he Mas characterized at 
that time, even by hostile pens, as one of the most re- 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF Tl.Mi:. 19] 

markable men whom England, fertile in intellectual ex- 
cellence, ever produced. The lapse of little more than 
ten years has begun to obscure his memory. It will 
be for posterity to determine whether he has connected 
his name with those greal causes of human improve- 
ment which send their influence to future ages, and are 

destined to be the only consideration (ill which t'aine 

hereafter will be awarded or preserved. Bui the mem- 
ory of his labors, and the voice of encouragemeni to the 
poor and lowly which sounds throughout his writings, 

must always lie refreshing to those whose hopes of 
future usefulness arc clouded by discouragement and 

poverty. There can be none so humble as not to derive 
succor from his example. He was conscious even to 
vanity of his own large powers, and at the close of 
his long career surveyed his succession of labors — the 
hundred volumes from his sleepless pen, and the wide 
influence they had exercised — with the self-gratulation 
of the miser in counting his stores of gold and silver. 

The son of a poor farmer, at the age of twenty he 
ran away from the paternal acres, and became tor a short 
time copying-clerk to a lawyer, but, tiring soon of these 
duties, he enlisted in the army and found himself pri- 
vate in a regiment af Chatham, which was ordered to 
America. His merit soon raised him to the rank of cor- 
poral, and then of sergeant-major. At this time he saw 
his future wife ami the mother of his children. The 
circumstances of this meeting, as described by himself 
in his own peculiar style, belong to this picture, while 
they illustrate the subject. "When I first saw my 
wife," he writes, "she was thirteen years old, and I was 
within a month of twenty-one. She was the daughter 
of a sergeant-major of artillery, ami I was the sergeant- 



192 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

major of a regiment of foot, both stationed in forts near 
the city of St. John, in the province of New Bruns- 
wick. I sat in the same room with her for about an 
hour, in company with others, and I made up my mind 
that she was the very girl for me. That I thought her 
beautiful is certain, for that I had always said should be 
an indispensable qualification ; but I saw in her what I 
deemed marks of that sobriety of conduct of which I 
have said so much, and which has been by far the great- 
est blessing of my life. It was now dead of winter, and 
of course the snow several feet deep on the ground, and 
the weather piercing cold. It was my habit, when I had 
done my morning's writing, to go out at break of dav to 
take a walk on a hill at the foot of which our barracks 
lay. In about three mornings after I had first seen her, I 
had, by an invitation to breakfast with me, got up two 
young men to join me in my walk, and our road lay by 
the house of her father and mother. It was hardly light, 
luit she was out on the snow, scrubbing out a washing- 
tub. ' That 's the girl forme:' said I, when we had got 
out of her hearing." 1 To her he plighted faith. After 
eight years of service in the army, and his return to 
England, he obtained his discharge and married her. 

In L792 Cobbett came to the United States, living 
in Philadelphia, where he was bookseller, publisher, au- 
thor, and libeller by profession. As "Peter Porcupine" 
he is well known. He shot his sharp ami malicious 
quills a1 the mosl estimable characters, — Franklin, Jef- 
ferson, Gallatin, Priestley, and even the sacred name 
of Washington. A heavy judgment for libel hanging 
suspended over him. he Bed from America, and from 
the justice he had aroused, to commence in England a 

1 Life, pp. 44, 45. 



Tin: EMPLOYMENT OF TIME, 193 

fresh career of unquestioned talents, unaccountable in- 
consistency, and inexhaustible malignity. 

On his arrival in England Cobbett attached himself 
warmly to the interests of Mr. Pitt, in whose behalf he 
wielded for a while his untiring pen. At the same 
time he commenced business as bookseller, in which 
he -""ii failed. In politics he showed himself more 
Tory than the mosl Tory. Mr. Windham,in the Eouse 
of ( lommons, made the remarkable declaration, thai " he 
merited a statue of gold." J Bis Letters on the Treaty of 
Amiens produced a sensation throughout Europe. 2 The 
celebrated Su iss historian, Von Muller, pronounced them 
more eloquent than anything since Demosthenes. Eow 
transitory is tame.' These Letters, once so much ad- 
mired, which, with profane force, helped to bursl open 
the Temple of Janus, happily closed by peace, are now 
forgotten. I do not know that they are to be found 
in any library in this part of the country. 

It was at this period that he commenced his " Weekly 
Political Register," which for more than thirty years was 
the vehicle of his opinions and feelings. But the pungent 
Toryism with which he began his career was changed 
into a more pungent Liberalism ; from the oil of Conser- 
vatism he passed to the vinegar of Dissent. Be saw- 
all things in a new light, and with unsparing criticism 
pursued the men he had recently extolled. His [sh- 
mael pen was turned against every man. Ee wrote 
with the hardihood of a pirate and the ardor of a 
patriot. At length he was convicted of libel, and sen- 
tenced to pay a fine of a thousand pounds and to be 

i Speech, August 5, 1803: Hansard, XXXVI. 1679. 

2 Letters to the Bight H rahle Lord Hawkesbury an.l to the Right 

Honorable Henry Addington, on the Pence with Buonaparte ; to which is 
added an Appendix. London, 1802. 

9 H 



194 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

imprisoned for two years. This severe incarceration lie 
never forgave or forgot. With thoughts of vengeance 
he emerged from his prison to unaccustomed popularity. 
His " Register," into which, as into a seething caldron, 
he weekly poured the venom of his pen, reached the 
unprecedented circulation of one hundred thousand, an 
audience greater than was ever before addressed by 
saint or sinner. The soul swells in the contemplation 
of the good that might have been wrought by a spirit 
elevated to the high purpose, having access to so many 
human hearts. His pen waxing in inveteracy, and him- 
self becoming daily more obnoxious to the Govern- 
ment, in 1817, by timely flight, he withdrew from the 
threatening storm, and sought shelter in the United 
States, where he lingered, principally on Long Island, 
till 1819, when he wandered back to England, there to 
renew his strifes and ruffle again the waters of political 
controversy. As late as 1831, he was, for the eighth 
time in his life, brought into court on a charge of libel. 
The veteran libeller, then seventy years of age, de- 
fended himself in a speech which occupied six hours. 
The jury did not agree, — six being for conviction and 
six fur acquittal. 

At the general election for the Reform Parliament in 
L832, Cobbetl was chosen member for the borough of 
Oldham, which seat he held until June 18, 1835, when 
his Long, active, and disturbed career was closed by 
death, leaving her whom lie had loved at the wash- 
tub, amid the snows of New Brunswick, his honored 
wiilnw. 

His character was unique. Ho was the most ern- 
phatic of writers, perhaps the nmst, voluminous. He 
was foremosl in the crew of haters ; he was the paragon 



TllK EMPLOYMENT OF II mi:. L95 

of turncoats. Sentiments uttered al one period were 
denied at another. Ai one time he wrote of Paine 
as follows : "IK' has done all the mischief he can in 
the world, and whether his carcass is at last to be 
suffered to rot <»n the earth or to be dried in the air 
is of very little consequence. Whenever 01 wherever 
he breathes his last, he will excite neither sorrow nor 
compassion; no friendly hand will close his eyes." 1 
Later in life, on his second visil to America, he ex- 
humed the bones of the man he had thus reviled, and 
bore them in idolatrous custody to the land of his 
birth. 

Besides his multitudinous political writings, which in 
number remind us of the cloud of "locusts warping on 
the eastern wind," he produced several works of great 
and deserved popularity, — a Grammar of the French 
Language, written while lie rocked the cradle of his first 
child, — a Grammar of the English Language, — a little 
volume, "Advice to Young .Men,"- — and a series of 
sketches entitled " Eural Rides," in which he gave un- 
mixed pleasure to friend and foe. 

I have dwell thus long upon the life and character of 
Cobbett, as a propeT introductidn to the picture of his 
marvellous industry, which I am able to present in his 
own language. The labor which he accomplished testi- 
fies ; but in his writings he often refers to it with peculiar 
pride. Be tells us how he learned grammar. Writing a 
fair hand, he was employed as copyist by the command- 
ant lit' the garrison where he firsl enlisted. In his auto- 
biography he says : " Being totally ignorant of the rules 
of grammar, I necessarily made many mistakes. The 

1 Life of Thomas Paine : Political Censor, No. V., Sept, 1796 : Porcu- 
pine's Works, Vol. IV. pp. 112, 113. 



19G THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

Colonel saw my deficiency, and strongly recommended 
study. I procured me a Lowth's Grammar, and applied 
myself to the study of it with unceasing assiduity. The 
pains I took cannot be described. I wrote the whole 
Grammar out two or three times; I got it hy heart ; I 
repeated it every morning and every evening ; and when 
on guard, I imposed on myself the task of saying it all 
over once, every time I was posted sentinel." 1 Would 
that all posted as sentinels were as well employed as say- 
ing over to themselves the English grammar ! If every 
common soldier could do this, there would be little fear 
of war. The evil spirits were supposed to be driven 
away by an Ave Maria or a word of prayer. The gram- 
mar would be as potent. "Terrible as an army with 
grammars " would be more than " Terrible as an army 
with banners." 

In his "Advice to Young Men" Cobbett says: "For my 
part, I can truly say that I owe more of my great labors 
to my strict adherence to the precepts that T have here 
given you than to all the natural abilities with which I 
have been endowed ; for these, whatever may have been 

their a tint, would have been of comparatively little 

use, even aided by greal sobriety and abstinence, if I 
had not in early life contracted the blessed habit of 
husbanding well my time. To this, more than to any 
other thing, I owed my very extraordinary promotion in 
the army. I was always ready. If I had to mount 
guard at ten, I was ready at nine ; never did any man or 

any thing wail one moment for me My custom was 

this : to gel up in summer at daylight, and in winter at 
four o'clock; shave, dress, even to the putting of my 
sword-belt over my shoulder, and having my sword ly- 

l Life, p. 38. 



Till: EMPLOYMENT OF 1IMK. L97 

ing mi the table before me, ready to hang by my Bide. 
Then I ate a bi1 of cheese or pork and bread. Then I 
prepared my report, which was filled up as fast as the 
companies broughl me in the materials. After this I 
had an boor or two to read before the time came for 
any duty out of doors." l 

At a later period of life, when his condition was 
entirely changed, and his name as a writer was in all 
men's months, he thus describes his habits. " 1 hardly 
ever rat more than twice a day, — when at home, never, 
— and 1 never, it' I can well avoid it, eat any meat 
later than one or two o'clock in the day. 1 drink a 
little tea or milk-and-water at the usual tea-time (about 
seven o'clock). I go to bed at eight, if I can. I write 
or read from aboul four to about eight, and then, hungry 
as a hunter, I go to breakfast." 2 

In another place he recounts with especial satisfaction 
a conversation at which he was present, one of the 
parties to which was Sir John Sinclair, the famous ag- 
riculturist and correspondent of Washington. "I once 
heard Sir John Sinclair," he says, "ask Mr. Cochrane 
Johnstone whether he meant to have a son of his, then 
a little hoy, taught Latin. 'No,' said Mr. Johnstone, 
'hut I mean to do something a great deal better for 
him.' ' What is that (' said Sir John. ' Why,' said the 
other, 'teach him to shave with cold water and without 
a glass. 5 " 3 

With this pertinacious devotion to labor, and this 
unparalleled sense of the value of time, Cohhett sur- 
rendered himself to the blandishments of domestic life. 
The hundred-armed giant of the press, he always had an 

1 A<lvice to Young Men, pp. 35, 36. - Life, p. 137. 

3 Advice to Young Men, p. 34. 



198 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

arm for his child. "For my own part," he says, "how 
many days, how many months, all put together, have I 
spent with babies in my arms! My time, when at 
home, and when babies were going on, was chiefly di- 
vided between the pen and the baby. I have fed them 
and put them to sleep hundreds of times, though there 
were servants to whom the task might have been trans- 
ferred. Yet I have not been effeminate ; I have not 
been idle ; I have not been a waster of time." " Many 
a score of papers have I written amidst the noise of 
children, and in my whole life never bade them be 
still. When they grew up to be big enough to gallop 
about the house, I have, in wet weather, when they 
could not go out, written the whole day amidst noise 
that would have made some authors half mad. It never 
annoyed me at all." 1 

These passages are like windows in his life, through 
which we discern his character, where the domestic af- 
fections seem to vie with the sense of time. 

No person can become familiar with the career of 
Cobbett without recognizing regular habits of industry as 
the potent means of producing important results, hid 
the hour permit, it would be pleasant and instructive to 
review the career of another distinguished character, 
whose writings have added much to the happiness of 
his age, and whose rare feats of labor illustrate the same 
truth: I mean the author of " YYaverley." There are 
points of comparison or contrast between Cobbett ami 
Scott which might he presented at Length. They were 
strictly contemporaries, spanning with their lives almost 
the same Ion- tract of time. They were the most volu- 
minous authors of their age, perhaps the most, volumi- 

i Advice to Young Men, pp. 142, l'ji. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 109 

nous couple of any age. Since the days of Axiosto no 
writers had been read by so many persons as was the 
fortune of each. The marvellous fecundity of Scott 
was more than matched by the prolific energy of Cob- 
bett The lame of the Scotsman was equalled by the 
notoriety of the Englishman. IT one awakened our de- 
light, we could not w ithhold from the other our astonish- 
ment With Scott life was a gala and a festival, with 
beauty, wit, and bravery. With Cobbett it was a stern 
reality, perpetually crying nut, like the witch in Macbeth, 
"I'll do, I '11 do, and 1 11 do." And yet Scott was hard- 
ly less careful of time than his indefatigable contempo- 
rary. His lite is a lesson of industry, and the student 
may derive instruction from his example. Both sought 
iii early rising the propitious hours of labor; but the 
morning brought its rich incense to the one, and its 
vigor to the other. They departed this life within a 
short period of each other, casting and leaving behind 
their voluminous folds of authorship. The future his- 
torian will note and study these ; but the world, which 
has already dismissed Cobbett from its presence, will 
hardly cherish with enduring aifeetion the writings of 
Scott. Be lived in the Past, and, with ill-directed 
genius, sought to gild the force, the injustice, the in- 
humanity of the early ages. Cobbetl lived intensely in 
the Present, and drew his inspiration from its short- 
lived controversies, for neither had Bope scattered 
from her "pictured urn" the delights of an unborn 
period, when the dignity of Bumanity shall stand con- 

f< d. A -renter fame than is awarded to either will 

he his who hereafter, with the imagination of the one 
and the energy of the other, without the spirit of Bate 
that animated Cobbett, without the spirit of Caste tl 



200 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

prevailed in Scott, regarding life neither as a festival 
nor as a battle, forgetting Cavalier and Roundhead alike, 
and remembering only Universal Man, shall dedicate 
the lain us of a long life, not to the Past, not to the 
Present only, but also to the Future, striving to bring 
its blessings nearer to all. 

Such are some of the examples by which we learn 
the constant lesson of the value of time. For them 
genius did much, but industry went hand in hand with 
this celestial guide. 

Here the student may ask by what rule time is to 
be arranged and apportioned so as to accomplish the 
greatest results. If we interrogate the lives of our 
masters in this regard, Ave shall find no uniform rule as 
to the employment of the day, or even the hours of 
repose. The great lawyer, Lord Coke, whose rare learn- 
ing and professional fame cannot render us insensible to 
his brutality of character, has preserved for the benefit 
of the young student some Latin verses setting forth 
the proper division of the day, allowing six hours for 
sleep, six for the law, four for prayers, two for meals, 
while all the rest, being six hours more, is to be lavished 
on the sacred muses. 1 These directions are imperfectly 
reproduced in two English rhymes: — 

Six hours in strep; in law's grave study six ; 
Four spend in prayer ; the rest on Nature fix." 

A more estimable character than Lord Coke, in whose 
Life clustered Literary as well as professional honors, Sir 
William Jones, himself a model of the industry he in- 
culcated, has said in a well-known distich : — 

i '• - omno, totidem des legibus sequis, 

Quatuor oral,!-, des epulisque duas ; 
Quod superest ultro sacris largire camoenis." 
Co. Litt. 64. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 201 

"Six hoars to law, to Boothing dumber seven, 
Ten to the world allot, and all to Heaven." 

The one hour here unappropriated is absorbed in the 
" all to Heaven." Sii Matthew Hale, another eminent 
name in jurisprudence, studied sixteen hours a day for 
the first two years alter he commenced the law, but 
almost brought himself to the grave thereby, though of 
a strong constitution, and he afterwards came down to 
eight hours; but be would not advise anybody in so 
much, — believing that six hours ;> day, with constancy 
ami attention, were sufficient, and adding, that "a man 
must use his body as lie would his horse and his 
stomach, not tire him at once, but rise with an appe- 
tite." 1 Here is at once example and warning. 

Sleep is the most exacting of masters; it must he 
obeyed. Couriers slumber on their horses; soldiers 
drop asleep on the field of battle, even amidst the din 
of war. In that famous retreat of Sir John Moore, 
English soldiers are said to have slept while Mill mov- 
ing. Ambition and the pride of victory yield to sleep. 
Alexander slept on the field of Arbela, and Napoleon 
on the field of Austerlitz. Bereavement and approach- 
ing death are forgotten in sleep. The convict sleeps 
in the few hours before his execution. According to 
Homer, sleep overcomes even the gods, excepting Jupiter 
alone. Its beneficence is equal to its power; nor has 
this ever been pictured more wonderfully than in those 
agonized words of Macbeth, where he says, — 

■• Macbeth does mnrther deep, the innocent >lcep, — 
. that knit- 11 1 > the ravelled sleave of care, 
The death of each day's life, Bore labor's bath, 
l!;ilm of hurt minds, great Nature's Becond course, 
Chief nourisher in life's feast." 

1 Roscoe, Lives of Eminent British Lawyers: Notes, pp. 413, 414. 
9* 



202 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

The rule of sleep is not the same for all. There are 
some with whom its requirements are gentle : a few 
hours will suffice. But such cases are exceptional. 
The Jesuits have done much for education, but on this 
question they seem to have failed. In settling the 
system for their college at Clermont, they followed 
their physicians in a rigid rule. The latter reported 
that five hours were sufficient, six abundant, and seven 
as much as a youthful constitution could bear without 
injury. On the other hand, Cobbett, whose experience 
of life was as thorough as his diligence, says expressly : 
" Young people require more sleep than those that are 
grown up : there must be the number of hours, and that 
number cannot well be on an average less than eight ; 
and if it be more in winter-time, it is all the better." * 
George the Third thought otherwise, at least for men. 
A tradesman, whom he had asked to call on him at 
eight o'clock in the morning, arriving behind the hour, 
the King said, "Oh ! the great Mr. B. ! What sleep do 
you take, Mr. B. ? " " Why, please your Majesty, I am 
a man of regular habits; I usually take eight hours." 
"Eight hours:" said the King; "that's too much, too 
much. Six hours' sleep is enough for a man, seven for 
a woman, and eight for a fool, — Mr. 15., eight for a 
fool." The opinions of physiologists would probably 
incline with Mr. II., the tradesman, contrary to this 
royal authority. 

It ia impossible to lay down any universal rule with 
regard to the proper portion of time for sleep. Each 
constitution of body has its own habits; nor can any 
rule be drawn from the lives of the most industrious, ex- 
cepl of economy of time, according to the capacity of 

1 Advice to Young Mod, p. 33. 



THE EMPLOYMENT 01 Tl.MK. 203 

each person. The great German Bcholar Beyne, who 
has shed such Lustre on classical Learning, in the order 

of his early studies allowed himself,for six months, only 
two nights' sleep in a week. The eccentric Robert Bill, 
of England, who passed his life as a tailor, but 1>\ per- 
severing labor made rare attainments in Latin, Greek, 
ami Hebrew, was accustomed to sil up very late into 
the eight, or else to rise by two or three o'clock in the 
morning, that he might find time for reading without 
prejudice to his trade, and although of a weakly con- 
stitution, he accustomed himself to do very well with 
only two or three hours of sleep in the twenty-four, and 
he lived to be seventy-eight. But this is a curiosity 
rather than an example. Such also is the story of the 
Roman Emperor Caligula, who slept only three hours. 
In the list of men sleeping only four hours is Frederick 
of Prussia, John Hunter, the surgeon, Napoleon, and 
Alexander von Humboldt. That gallant cavalier and 
accomplished historian, renowned for genius and mis- 
fortune, sir Walter Raleigh, was accustomed, even un- 
der the pressure of his arduous career, to devote four 
hours daily to reading and study, while he allowed only 
five for sleep. Probably all of us, in our own personal 
experience, have known men of study and labor who, in 
the ardor of their pursuit, have fore-one what is thoughl 
the ordinary sleep, being late to bed and early to rise, 
reducing the night toa narrow isthmus of time. Others 
there are with a vivacity of industry which acts with 
intensity and rapidity, requiring Long periods of re- 
pose. I cannot forget that Judge Story, the person who 
has accomplished more than any one within the circle 
of my individual observation, whose life — now, alas! 
closed by death — was thickly studded with various la- 



204 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

bors as judge, professor, and author, is a high example 
of what may be wrought by wakeful diligence, without 
denying the body any refreshment of repose. His 
habit, (lining the years of his greatest intellectual ac- 
tivity, was to retire always at ten o'clock and to rise at 
seven, — allowing nine hours for sleep. The tradesman 
of George the Third might have sought shelter with 
him from the royal raillery. 

Pursuing these inquiries as to the arrangement of the 
day, we find the precept, if not the example, uniform 
with regard to early rising as propitious to health and 
intellectual exertion. The old saw, "Early to bed and 
early to rise," imprints the lesson upon the mind of 
childhood. The magnificent period of Milton sounds 
in our ears : " My morning haunts are where they should 
be, at home, — not sleeping, or concocting the surfeits of 
an irregular feast, but up and stirring, — in winter often 
ere the sound of any bell awake men to labor or to de- 
votion, — in summer as oft with the bird that first rouses, 
or not much tardier, to read good authors or cause them 
to be read, 1 ill the attention be weary or memory have its 
full fraught, — -then with useful and generous labors pre- 
serving the body's health and hardiness, to render light- 
some, clear, and not lumpish obedience to the mind, to the 
cause of religion, and our country's liberty." 1 Sir Walter 
Scott is less stately in his tribute to the morning, but 
he agrees with Milton: "The half-hour between waking 
and rising has all my life proved propitious to any task 
which was exercising my invention. When I got over 
any knotty difficulty in a story, or have had in former 
times to till up a passage in a poem, it was always when 
L first opened my eyes that the desired ideas thronged 

i Apology for Smectymnuus: Prose Works, Vol. I. p. 220. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OP TIME. 206 

upon me. This is bo much the case, thai I am in the 
habit of relying upon it, and savin-- to myself, when I 
am at a loss, 'Nevermind, we shall have it at seven 
o'clock to-morrow morning. 1 If I have forgot a circum- 
stance, or a name, or a copy of verses, it is the same 
thing." 1 In this equal dedication to the morning Milton 
and Scott are alike, but how unlike in all else ! Milton's 
testimony is like an anthem ; Scotfs like an affidavit. 

Notwithstanding these great examples and the pre- 
vailing precept, it may be doubted if the student can be 
weaned from those habits which lead him to continue 
his vigils far into the watches of the night. From 
time immemorial he has been said to "consume the mid- 
night oil," and productions marked by peculiar care are 
proverbially reputed to "smell of the lamp," never to 
hreathe the odor of the morning. Aw ingenious inquirer 
might he inclined to trace in different writers, partic- 
ularly in poets, the distinctive influence of the hours 
they devoted to labor, and, perhaps, to find in Milton and 
Scott the freshness and vivid colors of the rosy-lingered 
dawn, and in Schiller and Byron the sombre shade and 
sickly glare of the lamp. Whatever the result of such 
speculations, which might be moralized by example, the 
midnight lamp will ever be regarded as the symbol of 
labor. In the wonders it has wrought it yields only 
to the far-tamed lamp of Aladdin. They who confess 
themselves among "the slaves of the lamp" say that 
there Ls an excitement in study, increasing as the work 
proceeds, which flames forth with new brightness at the 
close of the day and in the Btillness of those hours 
when the world is wrapped in sleep and the student is 
the sole watcher. The heavy clock seems to toll the 
i Diary: Lookhart'a Life of Scott, Chap. VII. VoL VI. p. '227. 



206 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

midnight hour in the church-belfry for him alone, and, 
as he catches its distant vibrations, he thinks that he 
hears the iron hoof of Time come sounding by. All 
interruptions are ended, and he is in closer companion- 
ship with his books and studies. He holds converse 
face to face with the spirits of the mighty dead, while 
the learned page and glowing verse become vocal with 
inspiring thought. The poet speaks to him with richer 
melodies, and the soul responds in new and more gen- 
erous resolves. 

It is not for me on this occasion to interpose any 
judgment on a question which comes within the pre- 
cincts of physiology. My present purpose i's accom- 
plished, if I teach the husbandry of time. To this end 
I have adduced authority and example. But there are 
other considerations which enforce the lesson with per- 
suasive, power. 

In the employment of time will be found the sure 
means of happiness. The laborer living by the sweat 
of his brow, and the youth toiling in perplexities of 
business or study, sighs for repose, and repines at the 
law which ordains the seeming hardship of his lot. 
He seeks happiness as the end and aim of life, but he 
does not open his mind to the important truth that 
occupation is indispensable to happiness, lie shuns 
work, hut lie docs not know the precious jewel hidden 
beneath its rude attire. Others there are who wander 
over half the globe in pursuit of what is found under 
the humblesl roof of virtuous industry, in the shadow 
of every tree planted by one's own hand. The poet has 
said, — 

" The best and sweetest far are toil-created gains." 

1'ni this docs not disclose the whole truth. There is 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIM I-:. 207 

in useful Laboi its own exceeding great reward, without 
regard to gain. 

The happiness found in occupation is the; frequent 
theme of the' moralist, but uobody has illustrated it 
with more power than Luther in his Table-Talk, where 
he presents an image of the human mind which has 
always seemed to me one of the most striking in the 
whole range of literature. Let me give it in the strong 
and fibrous diction of the ancienl translation from the 
original Latin. 

•• The heart of an humane creature is like a mill-stone 
in a mill: when corn is shaked thereupon, it runneth 
about, rubbeth ami grindeth it to meal ; hut if no corn 
bee present (the stone nevertheless running still about), 
then it rubbeth and grindeth it self thinner, and becom- 
eth less and smaller: even so the heart of an humane 
creature will bee occupied; if it hath not the works 
of its vocation in hand to bee busied therein, then com- 
eth the Divel and shooteth thereinto tribulations, heavie 
cogitations and vexations, as then the heart consumeth 
it self with melancholic, insomuch that it must starv 
and famish." 1 That it may not starve and famish, it 
must he supplied with something to do; and its hap- 
piness will he in proportion to the completeness with 
which all it- faculties are brought into activity. 

It is according to God's Providence that there should 
be pleasure in the exercise of all the powers with which 
we ar<- blessed. There is pleasure in seeing the sights 
and catching the sounds of Nature. There is pleasure 
in the exercise of the limbs, even in extending an arm 

1 Dr. Martin Luther's Divine Discourses at his Table, etc., translated out 
of the Bigh Germane into the English Tongne by Capt. Henri'' Bell, Lon- 
don, 165-2 : Chap. XXXVII., Of Tribulation and Temptation. 



208 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

or moving a muscle. Higher degrees of pleasure are 
allotted to the exercise of the higher faculties. There 
is pleasure in the acquisition of knowledge, — pleasure 
in the performance of duty, — pleasure in" all the labors 
by which we promote our own progress, — pleasure 
higher still in those by which we promote the progress 
of others. 

If this he so, — and surely it will not be doubted, — 
then is it our duty to regulate our habits so as to culti- 
vate all the faculties, to the end that Time shall yield 
its choicest fruits. When I speak of all the faculties, I 
mean all those which enter into and form the character 
created in the image of God, not merely those which 
minister to the selfish ends of life. There are faculties 
for business ; there are others which open to us the 
avenues of knowledge, — others which connect us 1 >y 
chains soft as silk, but strung as iron, to the social 
and domestic circle, — others still which reveal to us, 
in vistas of infinite variety and inconceivable extension, 
our duties to God and man. Nor can any one reason- 
ably persuade himself that lie has done his whole duty, 
and employed his time to the best purpose, who has 
neglected any of these, although he may have sacrificed 
much tu the others. Success in business will not com- 
pensate for neglect of general culture ; nor will attend- 
ance on "the staled preaching of the gospel" atone for 
;i want of interest in the great charities of life, in the 
education of the people, in the sufferings of the poor, in 
the sorrows of the s]a\ ,-. 

There is a tendency to absorption by one pursuit or 
one idea, againsl which we must especially guard. The 
mere man of business is "a man of one idea," 1 and his 

1 At tin- date of this Lecture the Abolitionist was constantly taunted, 
especially by business men, as " the man of one idea." 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME 209 

solitary idea has Its root in no generous or humane de- 
sires, bu1 in selfishness. Ee lives for himself alone. 
II.' may send his freights to the most distant quarters 
of the earth, and receive therefrom returning argosies, 
but his real horizon is restricted to the narrow circle of 
his own personal interests ; nor does his worldly nature. 
elated by the profits of cent per cent, see with eye of 
sympathy, in cotton sold or sugar bought, the drops of 
blood falling from the unhappy slaves out of whose la- 
bor they were wrung. In the mere man of business the 
individual is lust in the profession or calling, thinking 
only of that, and caring little for other things of life. 
He is known by the character that business impresses 
upon him. He is untiring in its pursuit, but with no 
true progress, for each day renews its predecessor. 
Benevolence calls, but he is deal', or satisfies his con- 
science by a dole of money. Literature exhibits her 
el larms, but he is insensible. And innocent recreation 
makes her pleasant appeal, hut he will not listen. He 
is absorbed, engrossed, filled in every vein by the "one 
idea" of business with new methods of adding to his 
increasing gains, as the month of the money-seeking 
Crassus Mas filled by the Parthians with molten gold. 

We learn to deride the pedant who sacrifices every- 
thing to the accumulation of empty learning, which he 
displays at all times, as a peddler his wares. The im- 
a'_!' of Dominie Sampson, in Scott's novel of "Guy Man- 
nering," is a happy scarecrow to frighten us from his 
"one idea." But the merchant whose only talk is of 
markets, the farmer whose only talk is of bullocks, and 
the lawyer whose only talk is of his cases, arc all Domi- 
nie Sampsons in their way. They have all missed that 
coinpleteiie- and harmony of development essential to 



210 TIIK EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

the balance of the faculties and to the best usefulness. 
Tliey have become richer in this world's goods; but 
they have sacrificed what money cannot supply, — a gen- 
eral intelligence, an independence of calling or position, 
and a catholic, liberal spirit. In the prejudices engen- 
dered by exclusive devotion to a single pursuit, they 
have lost one of the most important attributes of man, 
— the i inwer to receive and appreciate truth. 

It is a common saying, handed down with reverence 
in my own profession, where it is attested at once by 
Bacon and by Coke, that "every man owes a debt to 
his profession." If by this is meant that every man 
should seek to elevate his profession, and to increase its 
usefulness, the saying is a truism, although valuable as 
at least one remove from individual selfishness. But is 
it not too often construed so as to exclude exertion in 
any other walk, or to serve as a cloak for indifference 
to other things ? Important as this debt may be, — and 
I will not disparage it, — not for this alone are we sent 
into the world. There are other debts which must not 
be postponed. .Man was not thus fearfully and won- 
derfully made,— the ennningest pattern of excelling 
Nature, — endowed with infinite faculties, — traversing 
with the angels the blue floor of Heaven, — ranging 
with lighl from system to system of the Universe,— 
descending to the earth and receiving in bountiful lar- 
;ill its hoarded treasures, — girdling the -lobe with 
the peaceful embrace of commerce, — imposing chains 
even upon the lawless sea, — making the winds and 
elements do his bidding, — summoning to his company 

all that is and all that has been the good and great of 
all times, exemplars of truth, liberty, and virtue, all 
the -land procession of history, — formed to throb at 



THE EMPLOYMENT OE TIME. 21 L 

every deed of generosity and Belf-sacrifice, and to Bend 
forth his sympathies wider and sweeter than any 
south-wind blowing over beds of violets, until they 
reach the most distanl sufferer, — formed for the acqui- 
sition of knowledge and of science, — gifted to enjoy 
the various feasl of letters and art, the breathing can- 
vas and marble, the infinite many-choired voices of all 
the sons of genius who have written or spoken, the 
beauty of mountain, field, and river, the dazzling dra- 
pery of the winter snow, the glory of sunset, the blush- 
ing of the rose.— man was not made with all these 
capacities, looking before and after, spanning the vast 
outstretched Past, penetrating the vaster unfathomable 
Future, with all its images of beauty, merely to follow 
a profession or a trade, merely to be a merchant, a law- 
yer, a mechanic, a soldier. 

"So God created man in his own image; in t lie im- 
age of God created he him." The image of God is in 
the soul, and the young must take, heed that it is not 
effaced by the neglect of any of the trusts they have 
received. They must bear in mind that there are debts 
other than to their profession or business, which, like 
gratitude, it will ever ho their pleasure, "still paying, 
still to owe," — which can he properly discharged only 
by the besl employmenl of all the faculties with which 
they are blessed, — so that life shall be improved by 

Culture and filled with works I'm' the good of man. 

In no respecl would I weaken any just attachment 
tn the business of one's choice. Goethe advised every 
niie to read daily a short poem : and in the same spirit 
would I refine mid elevate business by the chastening 
influence of other pursuits, by enlarging t he intelligence, 
by widening the Bphere of observation and interest, by 
awakening new sympathies. 



212 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

In the faithful husbandry of time, in the aggregation 
of all its particles of gulden sand, is the first stage of 
individual progress. With the living spirit of industry, 
the student will find his way easy. Difficulties cannot 
permanently obstruct his resolute career. He will re- 
member " rare lion Jonson," one of England's admired 
and most learned bards, working as a bricklayer with a 
trowel in his hand and a book in his pocket, — Burns, 
wooing his muse as lie followed the plough on the moun- 
tain-side, — the beloved German Jean Paul, composing 
his earliest works by the music of the simmering kettles 
in his mother's humble kitchen, — and Franklin, while 
a printer's boy, straitened by small means, beginning 
those studies and labors which make him an example to 
mankind. 

Seek, then, occupation ; seek labor ; seek to employ 
all the faculties, whether in study or conduct, — not in 
words only, but in deeds also, mindful that "words are 
the daughters of Earth, bu1 deeds are the sons of Heaven." 
So shall you eat of that fabled fruit growing on the 
hanks of the river of Delight, whereby men gain a 
blessed course of life without one moment of sadness. 
So shall your days he tilled with usefulness, — 

•• Ami when old Time shall lead you to your end, 
G Iness and you (ill up one monument." 

There is a legend of Friar linger Bacon, so conspic- 
uous in what may he called the mythology of modern 
science, which enforces the importance of seizing the 
present moment; nor could I hope to close this appeal 
with anything better calculated to impress upon all the 
Lesson I have sought to teach. With wizard skill he 
had succeeded in constructing a brazen head, which, by 
unimaginable contrivance, after unknown lapse of time, 



TI1K EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 213 

was to speak ami declare importanl knowledge. Weary 
with watching for the auspicious moment, which had 
been prolonged through successive weeks, he bad sought 
the refreshment of sleep, Leaving bis man Aides to ob- 
serve the bead, and to awaken him at once, it' it should 
speak, that be mighl not tail to interrogate it. Shortly 
after be had Mink to rest, the head spake these words, 
Time is. But the foolish guardian beeded them not, 
nor the commands of bis master, whom be allowed to 
slumber unconscious of the auspicious moment. Anoth- 
er balf-hour passed and the head spake the words, Time 
was, which Miles still heeded not. Another balf-hour 
passed, and the head spake yet other words, Time is past, 
and straightway fell to the earth, shivered in pieces, 
with a terrible crash and strange Hashes of fire, so that 
Miles was half dead with fear; and his master awoke 
to behold the workmanship of his cunning hand and 
the hopes lie had builded thereupon shattered, while the 
voice from the brazen throat still sounded in his ears, 
Time is PAST ! 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE LATE 
JOHN PICKERING. 

Article in the Law Eeporter of June, 1846. 



IT was a remark of Lord Brougham, illustrated by his 
own crowded life, that the complete performance 
of all the duties of an active member of the British 
Parliament might be joined to a full practice at the bar. 
The career of the late Mr. Pickering illustrates a more 
grateful truth : that the mastery of the law as a science 
and the constant performance of all the duties of a prac- 
titioner are not incompatible with the studies of the 
most various scholarship, — that the lawyer and the 
scholar may be one. He dignified the law by the suc- 
cessful cultivation of letters, and strengthened the 
influence of these elegant pursuits by becoming their 
representative in the concerns of daily life and in the 
labors of his profession. And now that this living ex- 
ample of excellence is withdrawn, we feel a sorrow 
whirh words can only faintly express. We would de- 
vote a few moments to the contemplation of what he 
did and wlrnt he was. The language of exaggeration is 
forbidden by the modesty of bis nature, as it is rendered 
unnecessary by the multitude of his virtues. 

John* Pickering, whose recent death we deplore, was 

bom in Salem, February 7, 1777, at the darkest and 



Till'. LATH JoIIN PICKEBIN& 215 

most despondent period of the Revolution, His father, 
Colonel Pickering, was a man of distinguished charac- 
ter and an eminent actor in public affairs, whose name 
belongs to the history of our country. Of bis Large 
family of ten children John. was the eldest. 1 His dil- 
igence at school was a source of early gratification to 
his family, and gave augury of future accomplishments. 
An authentic token of this character, beyond any tra- 
dition of partial friends, is afforded by a little book 
entitled "Letters to a student in the University of 
Cambridge, Massachusetts, by John Clarke, Minister of 
a Church in Boston," printed in L796, and in reality 
addressed to him. The first letter begins with an hon- 
orable allusion to his early improvement. " Sour supe- 
rior qualifications for admission into the University give 
you singular advantages for the prosecution of your 

studies You are now placed in a situation to 

be some, what you have often assured me is your ambi- 
tion, a youth of learning and virtue." The last letter 
of the volume concludes with benedictions, which did 
n<>t tall as barren words upon the heart of the youthful 
pupil. "May you," savs Dr. Clarke, "he one of those 
son-, who do honor to their literary parent. The union 
of virtue and science will give you distinction at the 
present age, and will tend to give celebrity to the name 
of Harvard. You will not disappoint the friends who 
anticipate your improvements." They who remember 

his college days still dwell with fondness upon his ex- 
emplary character and his remarkable scholarship. He 
received his degree of Bachelor of Arts at Cambridge 

in 17'. Mi. 

1 The reporter, Octaviua Pickering, was so named from bis being the 
tii/htli child. 



216 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

On leaving the University lie went to Philadelphia, 
at that time the seat of government, his father being 
Secretary of State. Here he commenced the study of 
the law under Mr. Tilghman, afterwards the distin- 
guished Chief Justice of Pennsylvania, and one of the 
lights of American jurisprudence. But his professional 
lucubrations were soon suspended by his appointment, 
in 1797, as Secretary of Legation to Portugal. In this 
capacity he resided at Lisbon for two years, during 
which time he became familiar with the language and 
literature of the country. Later in life, when his ex- 
tensive knowledge of foreign tongues opened to him 
the literature of the world, he recurred with peculiar 
pleasure to the language of Camoens and Pombal. 

From Lisbon he passed to London, where, at the close 
of the last century, he became, for about two years, the 
private secretary of our Minister, Mr. King, residing in 
the family and enjoying the society and friendship of 
this distinguished representative of his country. Here he 
was happy in meeting with his classmate and attached 
friend, Dr. James Jackson, of Boston, then in London, 
pursuing those medical studies whose ripened autumnal 
fruits of usefulness and eminence he still lives to en- 
joy. In pleasant companionship they perambulated Hie, 
thoroughfares of the great metropolis, enjoying together 
its shows and attractions ; in pleasant companionship 
they continued ever afterwards, till death severed the 
ties of long life. 

Mr. Pi< kering's youth and inexperience in the profes- 
sion to which he afterwards devoted his days prevented 
his taking any special interest, at this period, in the 
courts or in Parliament. But there were several of the 
judges who made a strong impression on his mind; 



THE LATH JOHN PICKERING. 2 I 7 

nor did he ever cease to remember the vivacious elo- 
quence of ErsMlie or the commanding oratory of l'itt. 

Meanwhile, his father, being no Longer in the public 
service, had returned to Salem ; and thither the son fol- 
lowed, in L801, resuming the study of the law, under 
the direction of Mr. Putnam, afterwards a Learned and 
beloved Judge of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, 
whose rare fortune it has been to rear two pupils whose 
feme will lie among the choicesl possessions of our 
country, — Story and Pickering. In due time he was 
admitted tn the bar, and commenced the practice of the 
law iii Salem. 

Here lie-ins the long, unbroken series of his Labors in 
literature and philology, r unning side by side with the 
daily, untiring business of his profession. It is easy to 
believe, that, notwithstanding his undissembled predilec- 
tion for jurisprudence as a science, he was drawn towards 
its practice by the compulsion of duty rather than by 
any attraction it possessed for him. Not removed by 
fortune from the necessity, to which Dr. Johnson so 
pathetically alludes, of providing for the day that- was 
passing over him, he could indulge his taste for study 
only in hours secured by diligence from the inroads of 
business or refused to the seductions of pleasure. Since 
the oration for Arehias, perhaps no lawyer ever lived 
who could have uttered with greater truth the inspiring 
words with which, in thai remarkable production, the 
Roman orator confessed and vindicated the cultivation 
of letters : "Me autein quid pudeat, qui tot annos ita 
vivo, judices, ut ab nullius unquam me tempore aut 
commodo aut otium men in abstraxerit, aut voluptas avo- 
carit, aut denique somnus retard&rit '. Quare quis tan- 
dem me reprehendat, aut ipiis mihi jure succenseat, si, 

VOL. I. 10 



218 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

quantum cseteris ad suas res obeundas, quantum ad fes- 
tos dies ludurum celebrandos, quantum ad alias volup- 
tates, et ad ipsam requiem animi et corporis conceditur 
temporum, quantum alii tribuunt tempestivis conviviis, 
quantum denique aleae, quantum pilse, tantum mild 
egomet ad haec studia recolenda sumpsero?" 1 

In bis life may be seen two streams flowing side by 
side, as through a long tract of country : one fed by the 
fresh fountains high up in the mountain-tops, whose 
waters leap with delight on their journey to the sea ; 
while the other, having its sources low down in the 
valleys, aiming the haunts of men, moves with reluctant, 
though steady, current onward. 

Mr Pickering's days were passed in the performance 
of all the duties of a wide and various practice, first at 
Salem, and afterwards at Boston. He resided at the 
former place till 1827, when he removed to the me- 
tropolis, where two years afterwards lie became City 
Solicitor, an office whose arduous labors he continued 
to discharge until within a few months of his death. 
There is little worthy of notice in the ordinary inci- 
dents of professional life. What Blackstone aptly calls 
"the pert dispute" renews itself in infinitely varying 
form. Si inic new turn of litigation calls forth some new 
effort of learning or skill, calculated to serve its tem- 
porary purpose, and, like the manna which fell in the 
desert, perishing on the day that beholds it. The un- 
ambitious labors of which the world knows nothing, the 
advice to clients, the drawing of contracts, tbe perplexi- 
ties of conveyancing furnish still less of interesl than 
ephemera] displays of the court-room, 

The cans of his profession and the cultivation of let- 

1 Pro Archia, c. 6. 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 219 

ten Lefl but little time for the concerns of politi' 
And yet, at different periods, he filled offices in the Legis- 
lature of Massachusetts. He was three times Repre- 
sentative from Salem, twice Senator from Essex, once 
Senator from Suffolk, and once a member of the Exec- 
utive Council. In all these places lie commended him- 
self by the same diligence, honesty, learning, and ability 
which marked his course at the liar. The careful stu- 
dent of our legislative history will not fail to perceive 
hi> obligations to Mr. Pickering, as the author of im- 
portant reports and hills. The tirst hill lor the separa- 
tion of Maine from Massachusetts was reported to the 
Senate by him in L816, and though the object tailed 
for the time with the people of Maine, the hill is char- 
acterized by the historian of that State as "drawn with 
-real ability and skill." 1 The report and accompanying 
hill on the jurisdiction and proceedings of the Courts 
of Probate, discussing and remodelling the whole sys- 
tem, were from his hand. 

In is:;:; be was appointed to the vacancy, occasioned 
by the death of Professor Ashmun, in the commission 
for revising and arranging the statutes of Massachusetts, 
being associated in this important work with those emi- 
nent lawyers, Mr. Jackson and Mr. Stearns. The tirst 
part, or that entitled Of th. Interned Administration of 
the, Government, corresponding substantially with Black- 
stone's division Of the Rights of Persons, was executed by 
him. This alone entitles him to be gratefully remem- 
bered, not only by those having occasion to consult the 
Legislation of Massachusetts, hut by all who feel an in- 
terest in scientific jurisprudence. 

His contributions to what may he called the litera- 

i Williamson, History of Maine, Vul. II. p. C63. 



220 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

ture of his profession were frequent. The American 
Jurist was oi'ten enriched by articles from his pen. 
Among these is a review of the valuable work of Wil- 
liams on the Law of Executors, and of Curtis's Admi- 
ralty Digest, where he examined the interesting history 
of this jurisdiction; also an article on the Study of the 
R< >i nan Law, where, within a short compass, he presented 
a lucid history of this system, and the growth in Ger- 
many of the historical and didactic schools, "rival 
houses," as they may be called, in jurisprudence, whose 
long and unpleasant feud has only recently subsided. 

In the Law Eeporter for September, 1841, he published 
an article of singular merit, on National Eights and State 
Eights, being a review of the case of Alexander Mc- 
Leod, recently determined in the Supreme Court of New 
York. This was afterwards republished in a pamphlet, 
and extensively circulated. It is marked by uncommon 
learning, clearness, and power. The course of the courts 
of New York is handled with freedom, and the suprem- 
acy of the Government vindicated. Of all the discus- 
sions elicited by that interesting question, on which, for 
a while, seemed to hang the portentous issues of peace 
and Mai' between the United States and Great Britain, 
that of Mr. Pickering will be admitted to take the lead, 
whether we consider its character as an elegant compo- 
sition, or as a searching review of the juridical questions 
involved. In dealing with the opinion of Mr. Justice 
Couen, renowned for black-letter and the bibliography 
of the law, he shows himself more than a match for 
this learned Judge, even in these unfrequented fields, 
while the spirit of the publicist and jurist gives a re- 
fined temper to the whole article, which we vainly seek 
in the other production. 



Tin: I. ATI' .ImIIN PICKERING. L'L'l 

In the North American Re\ Lew for( October, 1840, is an 
article by him, illustrative of Conveyancing in Ancient 
Egypt, being an explanation of an Egyptian deed of a 
piece of land in hundred-gated Thebes, written on papy- 
rus, more than a century before the< Ihristian era, with the 
impression of a seal or stamp attached, ami a certificate 
of registry in the margin, in as regular a manner as the 
keeper of the registry in the County of Suffolk would 
certify to a deed of land in the City of Boston at this 
day. Jurisprudence is here adorned by scholarship. 

There is another production which, like the preceding, 
belongs to tin' departmenl of literature as well as of 
jurisprudence: his Lecture on the Alleged Incertainty 
of the Law, delivered before the Boston Society for tin' 
Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. Though written origi- 
nally for the general mind, which it is calculated to 
interesl and instruct in no common degree, it will be 
read with, equal advantage by the profound lawyer. It 
is not easy to mention any popular discussion of a jurid- 
ical character, in our language, deserving of higher re- 
gard. It was first published in the American Jurist, 
he solicitation of the writer of this sketch, who has 
never referred to it without fresh admiration of the 
happy illustrations and quiet reasoning by which it 
vindicates the science of the law. 

In considering what "Mr. Pickering accomplished out 
of his profession, we are led over wide and various 
fields of Learning, where we can only hope to indicate 
hi- footprints, without presuming to examine or describe 
the ground. 

One of his earliest cares was to elevate the character 
of classical studies in our country. In this respect his 



222 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

own example did much. From the time he left the 
University, he was always regarded as an authority on 
topics of scholarship. But his labors were devoted 
especially to this cause. As early as 1805, in conjunc- 
tion with his friend, the present Judge White, of Salem, 
he published an edition of the Histories of Sallust with 
Latin notes and a copious index. This is one of the first 
examples, in our country, of a classic edited with schol- 
arly skill. The same spirit led him, later in life, to 
publish in the North American Review, and afterwards 
in a pamphlet, "Observations on the Importance of Greek 
Literature, and the Best Method of Studying the Clas- 
sics," translated from the Latin of Professor Wyttenbach. 
In the course of the remarks with which he introduces 
the translation, he urges with conclusive force the im- 
portance of raising the standard of education in our 
country. "We are too apt," he says, "to consider our- 
selves as an insulated people, as not belonging to the 
great community of Europe; but we are, in truth, just 
as much members of it, by means of a common public 
law, commercial intercourse, literature, a kindred lan- 
guage and habits, as Englishmen or Frenchmen them- 
selves are; and we must procure for ourselves the 
qualifications accessary to maintain that rank which we 
shall claim as equal members of such a community." 

His Remarks on Greek Grammars, which appeared in 
the American Journal of Education in L825, belongs to 
the same field of labor, ;ts docs also his admirable paper, 
published in L81S, in the Memoirs of the American 
Academy, on the Proper Pronunciation of the Ancient 
Greek Language. 3 He maintained thai it should bepro- 

i "Observations upon the Greek Accent" is the title of an essay in the 
Royal Irish Transactions, Vol. VII., by Dr. Browne, suggested, like Mr. Pick- 



THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 223 

nounced, as far as possible, according to the Etomaio or 
modern Greek, and Learnedly exposed the vicious usage 
introduced by Erasmus. Eis conclusions, though con- 
troverted when first presented, are now substantially 
adopted by scholars. We well remember his honesl 
pleasure in a communication received within a few 
years from President Moore, of Columbia College, in 
Which that gentleman, who had once opposed his views, 
announced his change, and, with the candor that be- 
comes his honorable scholarship, volunteered to them 
the sanction of his approbation. 

The Greek and English Lexicon is his work of greatest 
labor in the department of classical learning. This alone 
would entitle him to praise from all who love liberal 
studies. With the well-thumbed copy of this book, used 
in college days, now before as, we feel how much we are 
debtor to his learned toil. Planned early in Mr. Pick- 
ering's life, it was begun in 1814 The interruptions of 
his profession induced him to engage the assistance of 
the late Dr. Daniel Oliver, Professor of Moral and Intel- 
lectual Philosophy at Dartmouth College. The work, 
proceeding slowly, was not announced by a prospectus 
until 1820, and not finally published until L826. It was 
mainly founded on the well-known Lexicon of Schreve- 
lius, which had received the emphatic commendation of 
Vicesimus Knox, and was generally regarded as prefer- 
able to any other for the use of schools. When Mr. 
Pickering commenced his labors there was no (deck 
Lexicon with definitions in our own tongue. The Eng- 
lish student obtained his knowledge of Greek through 

ering's, by conversation with Borne modern Greeks, and touching upon sim- 
ilar topics. I>r. Browne ia the author of the learned and somewhat antedi- 
luvian book mi the Civil and Admiralty Law. 



224 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

the intervention of Latin. And it is supposed by many, 
who have liui sufficiently regarded other relations of the 
subject, as we are Inclined to believe, that this circuitous 
and awkward practice is a principal reason why Greek 
is so much less familiar to us than Latin. In honorable 
efforts to remove this difficulty our countryman took the 
Lead. Shortly before the lastsheets of his Lexicon were 
printed, a copy of a London translation of Schrevelius 
reached this country, which proved, however to be "a 
hurried performance, upon which it would not have been 
safe t<» rely." 1 

Since the publication of his Lexicon, several others 
in Greek and English have appeared in England. The 
example of Germany and the learning of her scholars 
have contributed to these works. It were to be wished 
that all of them were free from the imputation of an un- 
handsome appropriation of labors performed by others. 
The Lexicon of Dr. Dunbar, Professor of Greek in the 
University of Edinburgh, published in 1840, contains 
whole pages taken bodily — "convey, the wise it call" 
— from thai of Mr. Pickering, while the Preface is con- 
tent with an acknowledgment, in very general terms, of 
obligation to the work which is copied. This is bad 
enough. Bui the second edition, published in 1844, 
omits acknowledgmenl altogether; and the Lexicon is 
welcomed by an elaborate article in the Quarterly Re- 
view, 2 as the triumphant labor of Dr. Dunbar, "well 
known anion- our Northern classics as a clever man and 
an acute scholar. In almost every page" continues the 
reviewer, "we mot with something which bespeaks the pen 
of a scholar; and we every now and then stumble on ex- 
planations of words and passages, occasionally fanciful, 

i Preface to Pickering's Lexicon. 2 Vol. LXXV. p. 299. 



Tin: l.ATi-: JOHN Pl< EBBING. 225 

but always sensible, and Bometimes ingenious, which 
amply repay us Pot the Bearch They prove, more- 
over, that the Prof essor is possessed of oiie quality which we 
could wish /<> see more general: he does not see with the 
eyes of others ; he thinks for himself, and he seems well 
qualified to do so." Did he not see with the eyes of 
others \ The reviewer hardly supposed that his com- 
mendation would reach the production of an American 
Lexicographer. 

In the general department of Languages and Philology 
his labors were various. Some of the publications already 
mentioned might be ranged under this head. There are 
others which remain to be noticed. The earliest is the 
work generally called The Vocabulary of Americanisms, 
being a collection of words and phrases supposed to be 
peculiar to the United States, with an Essay on the 
State of the English Language in this country. This 
originally appeared in the Memoirs of the American 
Academy, in 1815, and republished in a separate vol- 
ume, with corrections and additions, in 1816. It was 
the author's intention, had his life been spared, to print 
another edition, with the important gleanings of sub- 
sequent observation and study. Undoubtedly this work 
ha- exerted a beneficial influence upon the purity of our 
language. It has promoted careful habits of composition, 
and, in a certain degree, helped to guard the " well of 
English undetiled." Some of the words found in this 
Vocabulary may be traced to ancient sources of authori- 
ty; but there are many which are beyond question pro- 
vincial ami barbarous, although much used in our com- 
mon speech. — "fosx quoque quotidiani sermonis, foeda ac 
pudi nda vitia." 1 

1 De Oratoribus Dialogns, c. 32, — sometimes attributed to Tacitus. 
10* o 



226 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

In tlic Memoirs of the American Academy for 1818 
appeared his Essay on a Uniform Orthography for the 
Indian Languages of North America. The uncertainty 
of their orthography arose from the circumstance that 
the words were collected and reduced to writing by 
scholars of different nations, who often attached differ- 
ent values to the same letter, and represented the same 
sound by different letters; so that it was impossible to 
determine the sound of a written word, without first 
knowing through what alembic of speech it had passed. 
Thus the words of the same language or dialect, written 
by a German, a Frenchman, or an Englishman, would 
seem to belong to languages as widely different as those 
of these different people. "With the hope of removing 
from the path of others the perplexities that had beset 
his own, Mr. Pickering recommended the adoption of a 
common orthography, which would enable foreigners to 
use our hooks without difficulty, and, on the other hand, 
make theirs easy for us. To this end, he devised an 
alphabet for the Indian languages, which contained the 
common Letters of our alphabet, so far as practicable, a 
class of nasals, also of diphthongs, and, lastly, a number 
of compound characters, which it Mas supposed would 
be of more or less frequenl use in different dialects. 
With regard to this Essay, Mr. I Hi Ponceau said, at an 
early day, " If, as there is gre.it reason to expect, Mr. 
Pickering's orthography gets into general use among us, 
America will have had the honor of taking the lead in 
procuring an important auxiliary to philological science." 1 

1 Notes or I liot 1 Indian Grammar, Mass. Ili-t. Coll., Second Series, Vol. 
IX. p. xi. I cannot forbear adding, that in the correspondence of Leib- 
nitz there is a proposition for a new alphabet of the Arabic, .Kthiopic, 
Ryriac, and similar languages, which may remind the reader of that of Mr. 
Pic ering. Leibnitz, Opera (ed. Dutens), Vol. VI. p. S8. 



Till: LATE JOHN PICKERING. 227 

Perhaps no single paper on language, since the legendary 
labors of Cadmus, has exercised a mure iinportanl in- 
fluence than tMB communication. Though originally com- 
posed with a view to the Indian Languages of North 
America, it has been successfully followed by the mis- 
sionaries in tin- Polynesian tslands. In harmony with 
the principles of this Essay, the unwritten dialed of 
the Sandwich [slands, possessing, it is said,a more than 
Italian softness, was reduced to writing according to a 
bematic orthography prepared by Mr. Pickering, and 
is now employed in two newspapers published by na- 
tives. Tims be may be regarded as one of the contribu- 
tors to thai civilization, under whose gentle influence 
those island-, sel like richesl gems in the bosom of the 
sea, will yel glow with the effulgence of ( Ihristian truth. 

His early studies in this branch are attested by an ar- 
ticle in tin- North American Review for dune, 1819, on 
I'ii Ponceau's Report on the Languages of the American 
Indians, and another article in the same Review, lor duly, 
L820, "ii Dr. Jarvis's Discourse on the Religion of the 
Indian Tribes of North America. The latter attracted 
the particular attention of William von Humboldt. 

The Collections of the Massachusetts Historical So- 
ciety contain several important communications from 
him on the Indian languages: in L822 VoL IX. Second 
Series an edition of the Indian Grammar of Elliot, the 
- Augustin of New England, with Introductory Obser- 
vations on the Massachusetts Language by the editor, 
and Notes by .Mr. I »u Ponceau, inscribed to hi- " Learned 
friend. Mr. Pickering, as ;l just tribute of friendship and 
respect"; — in 1823 VoL X. Second Series an edition 
of Jonathan Edwards's Observations on the Mohegan 
Language, with an Advertisement and Copious Ni 



228 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

on the Indian Languages by the editor, and a Compara- 
tive Vocabulary of Various Dialects of the Lenape or 
Delaware Stock of North American Languages, together 
with a Specimen of the Winnebago Language ; — in 1830 
(Vol. II. Third Series) an edition of Cotton's Vocabu- 
lary of the Massachusetts Language. He also prepared 
Roger Williams's Vocabulary of the Narragansett In- 
dians for the Rhode Island Historical Society. These 
labors were calculated, in no ordinary degree, to pro- 
mote a knowledge of our aboriginal idioms, and to shed 
light on that important and newly attempted branch of 
knowledge, the science of Comparative Language. 

Among the Memoirs of the American Academy, pub- 
lished in 1833, (Vol. I. New Series) is the Dictionary of 
the Abnaki Language, in North America, by Father Se- 
bastian Pasles, with an Introductory Memoir and Notes 
by Mr. Pickering. The original manuscript of this copi- 
ous Dictionary, commenced by the good and indefatiga- 
ble Jesuit in 1691, during his solitary residence with the 
Indians, was found among his papers after the massacre 
at Norridgewock, in which he was killed, and, passing 
through several hands, at last came into the possession 
of Harvard University. .It is considered one of the 
most interesting and authentic documents in the histo- 
ry of the North American languages. In the Memoir 
accompanying the Dictionary, Mr. Pickering, with the 
modesty which marked all his labors, says that he made 
inquiries for memorials of these languages, "hoping that 
he might render some small service by collecting and 
preserving these valuable materials for the use of those 
persons whose leisure and ability would enable them to 
employ them more advantageously than it was in his 
power to do, for the benefit of philological science." 



THE LATE JOHS PICKERING. 229 

The elaborate article on the Indian Languages of 
America in the Encyclopaedia Americana La from his 
pen. The subject was considered so interesting, in r •- 
gard to general and comparative philology, while so 
little was known respecting it, that a space was allowed 
to this article beyond thai of other philological articles 
iu the Encyclopaedia The forthcoming volume of Me- 
moirs of the American Academy contains aii interest- 
ing paper of a kindred character', one of his latest pro- 
ductions, on the Language and [nhabitants of Lord 
North's bland, in the Indian Archipelago, with a Vo- 
cabulary. 

The Address before the American Oriental Society, 
delivered and published in L 843, as the firsl number of 
the Journal of that body, is an admirable contribution 
to the history of languages, presenting a survey of the 
peculiar field of labor to which the Society is devoted, 
in a style which attracts alike the scholar and the less 
critical reader. 

Amon- his other productions in philology may be 
mentioned an interesting article on the Chinese Lan- 
_e, which firsl appeared in the North American Re- 
view for January, L 839, and was afterwards dishonestly 
reprinted, as "</ original article, in the London .Monthly 

|,V\ lew tor I leceliiher, 1 S 111 ; also an article on the Co- 

chin-( Ihinese Language, published in the North American 
Review for April, L841 ; another on Adelung's "Survey 
of Languages," in the same journal, in L822 ; a review 
of Johnson's I >ictionary, in the American Quarterly Re- 
view tor September, L828; and two articles in the New 
York Review for L826, being a caustic examination of 
General Cass's article in the North American Review 

-ctni- the Indians of North America. These two pa- 



230 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

pers were not acknowledged by their author at the time 
they were written. They purport to be by KASS-ti-ga- 
tor-skee, or Th<- Feathered Arrow, a fictitious name from 
the Latin CAS-tigator and an Indian termination sJcee 
or ski. 

Even this enumeration does not close the catalogue 
of Mr. Pickering's productions. There are others — to 
which, however, we refer by their titles only — that 
may be classed with contributions to general literature. 
Among these is an Oration delivered at Salem on the 
Fourth of July, 1804; an articlerin the Encyclopaedia 
Americana, in 1829, on the Agrarian Laws of Eome ; an 
article in the North American Eeview for April, 1829, 
on Elementary Instruction ; an Introductory Essay to 
Newhall's Letters on Junius, in 1831 ; a Lecture on 
Telegraphic Language, before the Boston Marine Soci- 
ety, in 1833 ; an article on Peirce's History of Harvard 
University, in the North American Review for April, 
1834; an article on the South Sea Islands, in the 
American Quarterly Review for September, 1836; an 
article mi Prescott's History of the Reign of Ferdinand 
and [sabella, in the ISTew York Review for April, 1838; 
the noble Eulogy on Dr. Bowditch, delivered before the 
American Academy, May 29, 1 838 ; and ( >bituary Notices 
of Mr. Peirce, the Librarian of Harvard College, of Dr. 
Spurzheim, of Dr. Bowditch, and of his valued friend 
and correspondent, the partner of his philological labors, 
Mr. Du Ponceau; also an interesting Lecture, still un- 
published, on the Origin of the Population of America, 
and two others on Languages. 

The reader will be astonished at these various contri- 
butions to learning and literature, thus hastily re \ iewed, 



Till; LATE JOHH PICKERING. 231 

particularly when he regards them as the diversions of a 
life filled in amplesl measure by other pursuits. < lharles 
Lamb said that his real works were nol his published 
writings, but the ponderous folios copied by his hand 
in the [ndia Bouse. In the same spirit, Mr. Pickering 
might point to the multitudinous transactions of his long 
professional life, cases argued in court, conferences with 
clients, and deeds, contracts, and other papers, in that 
clear. Legible autograph which is a lit emblem of his 
transparent character. 

Hi- professional life first invites attention. Here it 
should be observed that he was a thorough, hard-work- 
ing lawyer, for the greater part of his days iii full pruc- 

constant at his otlice, attentive to all the concerns 
of business, and to what may he called the humilities 
of the profession, lie was faithful, conscientious, and 

t'ul; nor did his zeal for the interests committed to 
his care ever betray him beyond the golden mean of duty. 
The law, in his hands, was a shield lor defence, ami 
never a sword to thrust at his adversary. His prepara- 
tions for arguments in court were marked by peculiar 

: hi- brief was elaborate. On questions of law he 
was learned and profound ; hut his manner in court was 

lied by his matter. The experience of a long life 
never enabled him to overcome the native childlike dif- 
fidence which made him shrink from public display. 
He developed his views with clearness and an invari- 
able regard to their logical sequence, — hut he did not 
press them home by energy of manner, or any of the 
arts of eloquence. 

His mind was rather judicial than forensic in cast. 
Ee was better ahle to discern the ri-lit than to make 
the wrong appear the Letter reason. He was not a legal 



232 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

athlete, snuffing new vigor in the atmosphere of the 
bar, and regarding success alone, — but a faithful coun- 
sellor, solicitous for his client, and for justice too. 

It was this character that led him to contemplate the 
law as a science, and to study its improvement and ele- 
vation. lit 1 could not look upon it merely as the means 
of earning money. He gave much of his time to its 
generous culture. From the walks of practice he as- 
cended to the heights of jurisprudence, embracing with- 
in his observation the systems of other countries. His 
contributions to this department illustrate the turn and 
extent of his inquiries. It was his hope to accomplish 
some careful work on the law, more elaborate than the 
memorials he has left. The subject of the Practice and 
Procedure of Comix, or what is called by the civilians 
Stylus Curiae, occupied his mind, and he intended to 
treat it in the light of foreign authorities, particularly 
German and French, with the view of determining the 
general principles, or natural law, common to all sys- 
tems, by which it is governed. Such a work, executed 
with the line juridical spirit in which it was conceived, 
would have been welcomed wherever the law is studied 
a- a science. 

It is, then, not only as lawyer, practising in courts, 
but as jurist, to whom the light of jurisprudence shone 
gladsome, that we are to esteem our departed friend. 
As such, his example will command attention and exert 
an influence lone- after the paper dockets in blue covers, 
chronicling the stages of litigation in his cases, are con- 
signed In the oblivion of dark closets and cobwebbed 
pigeon-holes. 

Hut he has left a place vacant, not only in the halls 
of jurisprudence, bat also in the circle of scholars 



Tin: i.Aii: JOHN PICKERING. 233 

throughout the world, and, it may lie said, in the Pan- 
theon of universal Learning. Contemplating the variety, 
the universality of his attainments, the mind, borrowing 
an epithel once applied to another, involuntarily ex- 
claims, '• The admirable Pickering !" Be seems, indeed, 
to have run the whole round of knowledge. Sis studies 
in ancient learning had been profound; nor can we 
sufficiently admire the facility with which, amidst other 
cares, he assumed the task of lexicographer. Unless 
Borne memorandum should be found anion- his papers, 
as was the case with sir William Jones, 3 specifying the 
languages to which he had been devoted, it might be 
difficult to frame a list with entire accuracy. It is cer- 
tain that he was familiar with at least nine, — English, 
French, Portuguese, Italian, Spanish, German, Romaic, 
Greek, and Latin, of which he spoke the first five. Ee 
was less familiar, though well acquainted, with Dutch, 
Swedish, Danish, and Bebrew, — and had explored, with 
various degrees of care, the Arabic, Turkish, Syriac, Per- 
sian, Coptic, Sanscrit, Chinese, Cochin-Chinese, Russian, 
I ] »t i = 1 1 1 hieroglyphics, the Malay in several dialects, 
and particularly the Indian Languages of America and 
the Polynesian Islands. 

The sarcasm of Budibras on the "barren ground" 
supposed congenial to " Bebrew roots" is refuted by 
the richness of his accomplishments. His style is that 
of a scholar and man of taste. It is simple, unpretend- 

1 Sir William Jones had studied eight languages critically, — English, 
Latin, French, Italian, Greek, Aral pic, Persian, Sanscrit; <-iirl 1 1 less perfectly, 
bat all intelligible with a dictionary, — Spanish, Portuguese, German, Ru- 
nic, Hebrew, Bengali, Hindi, Turkish: twelve least perfectly, but all attain- 
able, — Tibetian, Pali, Phalavi, Deri, Russian, Syriac, £thiopic, Coptic, 
Welsh, Swedish, Dutch, Chinese: in all twenty-eight languages. — Teigh- 
koi i ii. / ifi of Jones, p. 376, i 



234 BIOGHAPIIICAL SKETCH OF 

ing like its author, clear, accurate, and flows in an even 
tenor of elegance; which rises at times to a suavity al- 
most Xenophontian. Though little adorned by flowers 
of rhetoric, it shows the sensibility and refinement of an 
ear attuned to the harmonies of language. He had cul- 
tivated music as a science, and in his younger days per- 
formed on the flute with Grecian fondness. Some of the 
airs lie had Learned in Portugal were sung to him by his 
daughter shortly before his death, bringing with them, 
doubtless, the pleasant memories of early travel and the 
" incense-breathing morn " of life. A lover of music, he 
was naturally inclined to the other fine arts, but always 
had particular pleasure in works of sculpture. 

Nor were those other studies which are sometimes re- 
garded as of a more practical character foreign to his mind. 
In college days he was noticed for his attainments in 
mathematics ; and later in life he perused with intelligent 
care the great work of his friend, I )r. Bowditch, the trans- 
lation of the Me'canique Celeste, lie was chairman of 
the committee which recommended the purchase of a 
first-class telescope for the neighborhood of Boston, and 
was the author of their interesting report on the use 
and importance of such an instrument. He was partial 
to natural history, particularly botany, which he taught 
to some of his family. In addition to all this, he pos- 
sessed a natural aptitude for the mechanic avis, which 
was improved by observation and care. Early in life he 
Learned in use the turning-lathe, and, as he declared in 
an unpublished lecture before the Mechanics' Institute 
of Boston, made toys which he bartered among his school- 
mates. 

This last circumstance gives singular point to the 
parallel, already striking in other respects, between him 



Till: I. ATI: JOHK PICKERING. 235 

and the Greei orator, the boast of whose various knowl- 
edge is preserved by Cicero: "Nihil esse alia in arte 
reram omnium, quod ipse aescirel : Qec solum hasartes, 
quibus liberales doctrinse atque ingenuse continerentur, 
geometriam, musicam,literarumcognitionemetpoetarum, 
atque ilia, quae de naturis rerum, quae dehominum mori- 
bus, quse de rebuspublicis dicerentux ; sed annulum, quern 
haberet, se sua mawu confecisse"* The Greek, besides 
knowing everything, made the ring which be wore, as 
our friend made toj 3. 

As the champion of classical studies,and a studenl of 
language, or philologist, he is entitled to be specially re- 
membered. It is impossible to measurethe influence be 
has exerted upon the scholarship of the country. Eis 
writings and his example, from early youth, pleaded its 
cause, and will plead it ever, although his living voice is 
hushed in the grave. His genius for Languages was pro- 
found. He saw, with intuitive perception, their structure 
and affinities, and delighted in the detection of their hid- 
den resemblances and relations. To their history and 
character he devoted his attention, more than to their 
literature. It is not possible lor this humble pen to de- 
termine the place which will he allotted to him in the 
science of philology ; but the writer cannot forbear re- 
cording the authoritative testimony to the rare merits of 
Mr. Pickering in this department, which it was his for- 
tune to hear from the lips of Alexander von Eumboldt. 
With the brother, William von Eumboldt, that great 
light of modern philology, he maintained a Ion- corre- 
spondence, particularly on the Indian languages ; ami his 
letters will lie found preserved in the Royal Library at 
Berlin Without rashly undertaking to indicate any 

i !).• Oratore, Lib. III. cap. 82. 



l'.",i; BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

scale of pre-eminence or precedence among the cultiva- 
tors of this department, at home or abroad, it may not 
he improper to refer to his labors in those words of Dr. 
Johnson with regard to his own, as evidence "that we 
may no longer yield the palm of philology, without a 
contest, to the nations of the Continent." 1 

If it should he asked by what magic Mr. Pickering 
was able to accomplish these remarkable results, it must 
be answered, By the careful husbandry of time. His 
talisman was industry. He delighted in referring to 
those rude inhabitants of Tartary who placed idleness 
among the torments of the world to come, and often re- 
membered the beautiful proverb in his Oriental studies, 
that by labor the leaf of the mulberry is turned into silk. 
His life is a perpetual commentary on those words of 
untranslatable beauty in the great Italian poet : — 

" Seggendo in piuma, 

In fama non si vien, ne sotto coltre : 
Sauza la qual, chi sun vita consuma, 

Cotal vestigio in terra di se Iascia, 
Qnal fumo in acre od in acqua la schiuma." 2 

With a mind thus deeply imbued witli learning, it 
will be felt that he was formed less for the contentions 
of i he forum than for the exercises of the academy. And 
yel it is understood that he declined several opportu- 
nities of entering its learned retreats. In 1806 he was 
elected Hancock Professor of Hebrew and other Oriental 
Languages in Harvard University ; and at a later day he 
was invited to the chair of Greek Literature in the same 
institution. On the death of Professor Ashmun, many 
eyes were turned towards him, as fitted to occupy the 
professorship of Law in Cambridge, since so ably tilled 

1 Preface to Dictionary. 

2 Divina Commedia, Inferno, Canto XXIV. vv. 47-51. 



Tin: LATE JOHN PICKERING. 237 

by Mr. Grreenleaf; and on two different occasions his 
name was echoed by the public prints as about to re- 
ceive the dignity of Presidenl of the University. But 
he continued in the practice of the law to the last. 

He should be claimed by the bar with peculiar pride. 
It it be true, as has been said, thai Serjeant Talfourd 
has reflected more honor upon his profession by the 
successful cultivation of letters than any of his contem- 
poraries by their forensic triumphs, then should the 
American bar acknowledge their obligations to the fame 
tit' Mr. Pickering. Be was one of as. Ee was &regpu- 
/"/■ in our ranks ; in other sen Lee, only a voluntet r. 

The mind is led instinctively to a parallel between 
him and that illustrious scholar and jurist, ornament of 
the English law, and pioneer of Oriental studies in 
England, Sir William Jones, to whom I have already 
referred. Both confessed, in early life, the attractions 
of classical studies; both were trained in the discipline 
of the law; both, though en-aged in its practice, always 
delighted to contemplate it as a science; both surren- 
dered themselves with irrepressible ardor to the study 
of languages, while the one broke into the unexplored 
fields of Eastern philology, and the other devoted him- 
self more especially to the native tongues of his own 
Western continent. Their names are, perhaps, equally 
conspicuous for the number of languages which occu- 
pied their attention. As we approach them in private 
lite, the parallel still continues. In both there were the 
same truth, generosity, and gentleness, a cluster of noble 
virtues, — while the intenser earnestness of the one is 
compensated l»y the greater modesty of the other. To 
our American jurist-scholar, also, may be applied those 
words of the Greek couplet, borrowed from Aris- 



238 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF 

tophanes, and first appropriated to his English proto- 
type : "The Graces, seeking a shrine that would not 
decay, found the soul of dunes." 

While dwelling with admiration upon his triumphs 
of intellecl and the fame he has won, we must not for- 
gel the virtues, higher than intellect or fame, by which 
his life was adorned. In the jurist and the scholar 
we musl not lose sight of the maw. So far as is allot- 
ted to a mortal, he was a spotless character. The murky 
tides of this world seemed to flow by without soiling 
his garments. He was pure in thought, word, and deed ; 
a lover of truth, goodness, and humanity ; the friend 
of the young, encouraging them in their studios, and 
aiding them by wise counsels; ever kind, considerate, 
and gentle to all; towards children, and the unfortu- 
nate, full of tenderness. Ee was of charming modesty. 
With learning to which all bowed with reverence, he 
walked humbly before God and man. His pleasures 
were simple. In the retirement of his study, and the 
blandishments of his music-loving family, he found rest 
from the fatigues of the bar. He never spoke in anger, 
nor did any hate find a seat in his bosom. His placid 
life was, like law in the definition of Aristotle, "mind 
without passion." 

Through his long and industrious career he was bless- 
ed with unbroken health. He walked on earth with an 
unailing body and a serene mind; and at last, in the 
fulness of time, when the garner was overflowing with 
the harvests of a well-spent life, in the bosom of his 
family, the silver cord was gently loosed. He died at 
Bo ton, May 5, L846, in the seventieth year of his age, 

only a few days after he had prepared for the press 
the last sheets of a new and enlarged edition of his 



Till: LATE JOHN PICKEEING. 239 

Greek Lexicon. Bis wife, to whom lie was married in 
I805,and three children, survive to mourn their irrepa- 
rable loss. 
The number of societies, both at home and abroad, 

of which he was an honored member, attests the wide- 
spread recognition of his merits. Ee was President of 
the American Academy of Arts and Sciences; President 
of the American Oriental Society; Foreign Secretary 
of the American Antiquarian Society; Fellow of the 
Massachusetts Historical Society, the American Eth- 
nological Society, the American Philosophical Society; 
Honorary Member of the Historical Societies of New 
Hampshire, Rhode Island, New York, Pennsylvania, 
Michigan, Maryland, and Georgia; Honorary Member 
of the National Institution for the Promotion of Sci- 
ence, the American Statistical Association, the Northern 
Academy of Arts and Sciences, Hanover, N. II., and the 
Society for the Promotion of Legal Knowledge, Phila- 
delphia; Corresponding Member of the Academy of 
Sciences at Berlin, the Oriental Society of Paris, the 
Ai tdemy of Sciences and Letters at Palermo, the An- 
tiquarian Society at Athens, and the Royal Northern 
Antiquarian Society at Copenhagen ; and Titular Mem- 
ber of the French Society of Universal Statistics. 

For many years he maintained a copious correspond- 
ence, on matters of jurisprudence, science, and learning, 
with distinguished names at home and abroad: espe- 
cially with Mr. I Mi Ponceau, at Philadelphia, — with 
William von Humboldt, at Berlin, — with Mittermaier, 
the jurist, at Heidelberg, — with IM\ Prichard, author of 
the Physical History of Mankind, at Bristol, — and with 
Lepsius, the hierologist, who wrote to him from the foot 
of the Pyramids, in Egypt 



240 THE LATE JOHN PICKERING. 

The death of one thus variously connected is no com- 
mon sorrow. Beyond the immediate circle of family 
and friends, he will be mourned by the bar, among 
whom his daily life was passed, — by the municipality 
of Boston, whose legal adviser he was, — by clients, 
wlio depended upon his counsels, — by good citizens, 
who were charmed by the abounding virtues of his 
private life, — by his country, who will cherish his name 
more than gold or silver, — by the distant islands of the 
Pacific, who will bless his labors in the words they read, 
— finally, by the company of jurists and scholars 
throughout the world. His fame and his works will 
be fitly commemorated, on formal occasions, hereafter. 
Meanwhile, one who knew him at the bar and in pri- 
vate life, and who loves his memory, lays this early 
tribute upon his grave. 



THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, THE ARTIST, 
THE PHILANTHROPIST. 



An Oration before tiie Phi Beta Kappa Society of 

Harvard University, at their Anniversary, 

August 27, 1846. 



Then I would Bay to the young disciple of Truth and Beauty, who 
would know how to satisfy the noble impulse of his heart, through every 
opposition of the century, — I would say, Give the world beneath your 
influence a direction towards the good, and the tranquil rhythm of time 
will bring its development. — Schiller. 



I 1 



T\ this Oration, as in that of the 4th of July, Mr. Stunner took advan- 

tage of th .1-1-11 to express himself freely, especially on the two great 

questions of Slavery and War. In the sensitive condition of public senti- 
ment at that time, such an effort would have found small indulgence, if he 
had not placed himself behind four such names. While commemorating 
the dead, be was able to uphold living truth. 

The acceptance of this Oration at the time is attested by the toast of 
Quincy Adams at the dinner of the Society : — 

"The memory of the Scholar, the Jurist, the Artist, the Philanthropist ; 
and not the memory, but the long life of the kindred spirit who has this 
day embalmed them all." 

This was followed by a letter from Mr. Adams to Mr. Sumner, dated at 
Quincy, August 29, 1846, containing the following passage : — 

'• [tis a gratification to me to have the opportunity to repeat the thank9 
which I so cordially gave you at the close of your oration of last Thursday, 
and of which the sentiment offered by me at the dinner-table was but an 
additional pulsation from the same heart. I trust I may now congratulate 
you on the felicity, first of your selection of your subject, and secondly of 

i-- consummation in the delivery The pleasure with which I listened 

to your discourse was inspired far less by the success and all but universal 
acceptance and applause of the present moment than by the vista of the 
future which i- opened to my view. Casting my eyes backward no farther 
than the 4th of duly of last year, when you set all the vipers of Alecto 
a-hissing by proclaiming the Christian law of universal peace and love, 
anl then casting them forward, perhaps not much farther, but beyond my 
own allotted time, I see you have a mission to perform. 1 look from Pisgafa 

to th<- Promised Land; you must enter upon it To the mottoon my seal 

\AUtri saculv] add Ihlervla est aervitus." 

Similar testimony was offered by Edward Everett in a letter dated at 
Cambridge, Septembers, 1846, where he thanks Mr. Sumner for his "most 
magnificent address, — an effort certainly of unsurpassed felicity and 
power," — then in another letter dated at Cambridge, September 26th, where 
he writes: "I rend it last evening with a renewal of the delight with 
which I heard it. Should you never do anything else, yon have done 
enough for fame; but yon are. as far as these public efforts are concerned, 
at the commencement of a career, destined, I trust, to last for long year-. 
of ever-increasing usefulness and honor." 

Mr. I're-cott, under date of October 2d, writes: — 

" The most happy conception has been carried out admirably, as if it 



244 

were the most natural order of tilings, without the least constraint or vio- 
lence. I don't km>\v which of your sketches 1 like the host. I am inclined 
to think the Judge; for there you are on your own heather, and it is the 
tribute of a favorite pupil to his well-loved master, gushing warm from the 
heart Yet they are all managed well; and the vivid touches of character 
and the richness of the illustration will repay the study, I should imagine, 
of any one familiar with the particular science you discuss." 

Chancellor Kent, of New York, under date of October 6th, expresses him- 
self as follows: — 

" I had the pleasure to receive your Phi Beta Kappa Address, and I think 
it to be one of the most splendid productions in point of diction and elo- 
quence that 1 have ever read. You brought a most fervent mind to the 
ta>k. glowing with images of transcendent worth, and embellished with 
classical and literary allusions drawn from your memory and guided by 
your taste, with extraordinary force You have raised a noble monu- 
ment to the four great men who have adorned your State, and I feel deeply 
humbled with a ^ense of my own miserable inferiority when I contemplate 
such exalted models." 

These contemporary tokens of friendship and sympathy seem a proper 
part of this record. 



ORATIOX. 



TO-DAY is the festival of our fraternity, sacred to 
learning, to friendship, and to truth. From many 
places, remote and near, we have conic together be- 
neath the benediction of Alma Mater. We have walked 
in the grateful shelter of her rich embowering trees. 
Friend has met friend, classmate has pressed the hand 
of classmate, while the ruddy memories of youth and 
early study have risen upon the soul. And now we 
have come up to this church, a company of broth- 
ers, in long, well-ordered procession, commencing with 
the silver locks of reverend age, and closing with 
the fresh laces that glow with the golden blood of 
youth. 

With hearts of gratitude, we greet among our number 
those whose lives are crowned by desert, — especially him 
who, nt inning from conspicuous cares in a foreign land, 
now graces our chief seat of learning, 1 — and not less 
him who, closing, in the high service of the University, 
a life-long career of probity and honor, now voluntarily 
withdraws to a scholar's repose. 2 We salute at once the 
successor and the predecessor, the rising and the set- 

1 Hon. Edward Everett, President of Harvard University. 

2 Hon. Josiah Quincy, late President of Harvard University 



246 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

ting sun. And ingenuous youth, in whose bosom are 
infolded the genus of untold excellence, whose ardent 
soul sees visions closed to others by the hand of Time, 
commands our reverence not less than age rich in ex- 
perience and honor. The Present and the Past, with all 
their works, we know and measure; but the triumphs 
of the Future arc unknown and immeasurable ; — there- 
fore is there in the yet untried powers of youth a vast- 
ness of promise to quicken the regard. Welcome, then, 
not less the young than the old ! and may this our holi- 
day brighten with harmony and joy ! 

As the eye wanders around our circle, Mr. President, 
in vain it seeks a beloved form, for many years so wel- 
come in the seat you now fill. I might have looked 
to behold him on this occasion. But death, since we 
last met together, has borne him away. The love of 
friends, the devotion of pupils, the prayers of the nation, 
the concern of the world, could not shield him from the 
inexorable shaft. Borrowing for him those words of 
genius and friendship which gushed from Clarendon at 
the name of Falkland, that he was '"a person of pro- 
digious parts of learning and knowledge, of inimitable 
sweetness and delight in conversation, of flowing and 
obliging humanity and goodness to mankind, and of 
primitive simplicity and integrity of life," 1 I need not 
add the name of STORY. To dwell on his character, and 
all that he has done, were a worthy theme. But his is 
not the only well-loved countenance which returns no 
answering smile. 

This year our Society, according to custom, publishes 

the catalogue of its members, marking by a star the in- 

ate archery of Death during the brief space of four 

1 History of the Rebellion, Book VII. 



THK aBTIST, Till'. PHILANTHROPIST. 247 

vcars. In no period of its history, equally short, have 
such shining marks been found. 

•• \..\v kindred Merit fills the -:il >!«• bier, 
Now lacerated Friendship claims a tear; 
Tear chases year, decay pursues decay, 
Still drops Borne joy from withering life away." l 

Scholarship, Jurisprudence, Art, Humanity, eacli is 
called to mourn a chosen champion. Pickering the 
Scholar, Story the Jurist, Allston the Artist, Channing 
the Philanthropist, are gone. When oar last catalogue 
was published they were nil living, each in his field of 
fame. Our catalogue of this year gathers them with 
the peaceful dead. Sweet and exalted companionship! 
They were joined in life, in renown, and in death. They 
were brethren of our fraternity, suns of Alma Main-. 
Story and Channing were classmates; Pickering pre- 
ceded them by two years only, Allston followed them 
by two years. Casting our eyes upon the closing lus- 
tre of the last century, we discern this brilliant group 
whose mortal light is now obscured. After the toils of 
his long life, Pickering sleeps serenely in the place of 
his birth, near the honored dust of his father. Chan- 
ning, Story, and All-ton have been laid to rest in Cam- 
bridge, where they first tasted together the tree of life: 
Allston in the adjoining church-yard, within sound of 
the voice that now addresses you ; Channing and Story 
in the pleasant, grassy bed of Mounl Auburn, under the 
shadow of beautiful trees, whose falling autumnal leaves 
are lit emblem of the generations of men. 

It was the custom in ancienl Rome, on solemn occa- 
sions, to bring forward the images of departed friends, 
arrayed in robes of office, ami carefully adorned, while 

1 Johnson, Vanity of Soman Wishes, vv. 303-306. 



248 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

some one recounted what they had done, in the hope 
of refreshing the memory of their deeds, and of in- 
spiring the living with new impulse to virtue. " For 
who," says the ancient historian, " can behold without 
emotion the forms of so many illustrious men, thus liv- 
ing, as it wore, and breathing together in his presence? 
or what spectacle can be conceived more great and strik- 
ing ? " * The images of our departed brothers are present 
here to-day, not in sculptured marble, but graven on our 
hearts. "We behold them again, as in life. They mingle 
in our festival, and cheer us by their presence. It were 
well to catch the opportunity of observing together their 
well-known lineaments, and of dwelling anew, with 
warmth of living affection, upon the virtues by which 
they are commended. Devoting the hour to their mem- 
ory, we may seek also to comprehend and reverence the 
great interests which they lived to promote. Pickering, 
Story, Allston, Charming '. Their names alone, without 
addition, awaken a response, which, like the far-famed 
echo of Dodona, will prolong itself through the live- 
long day. But, great as they are, we feci their insignifi- 
cance by the side of those great causes to which their 
days were consecrated, — Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, 
Love, the comprehensive attributes of God. Illustri- 
ous on earth, they were but lowly and mortal ministers 
of lofty and immortal truth. It is, then, Tin: Scholar, 
the Jurist, the Artist, the Philanthropist, whom we 
celebrate to-day, and whose pursuits will be the theme 
of my discourse. 

Eere, on this threshold, let me say, what is implied 
in the very statemenl of my subject, that, in offering 
these tributes, I seek no occasion for personal eulogy or 

i Hampton's Polybius, Book VI. Ext. II. ch. 2. 



T11K ARTIST, Till'. PHILANTHROPIST. 249 

biographical detail My aim is to commemorate the 
men, but more to advance the objects which the} so 
lessfully served. Reversing the order in which they 
left us, I shall take the last first. 

John Pickering, the Scholar, died in the month of 
May, 1 846, aged sixty-nine, "within a short distance of 
that extreme goal which is the allotted limit of human 
life By Scholar I mean a cultivator of liberal studies, a 
student of knowledge in its largest sense, — not merely 
classical, not excluding what in our day is exclusively 

called science, hut which was unknown when the title 
of scholar first prevailed : for though Cicero dealt a sar- 
casm at Archimedes, he spoke with higher truth when 
lie beautifully recognized the common bond between all 
departments of knowledge. The brother whom we 
mourn was a scholar, a student, as long as he lived. His 
place was not merely among those called by courtesy 
Educated Men, with most of whom education is past 
and gone, — men who have studied ; he studied always. 
Life to him was an unbroken lesson, pleasant with the 
charm of knowledge and the consciousness of improve- 
ment. 

The world knows and reveres his learning ; they only 
who partook somewhat of bis daily life fully know the 
modesty of his character. His knowledge was such 
that he seemed to be ignorant of nothing, while, in the 
perfection of his humility, he might seem to know 
nothing. By learning conspicuous before the world, his 
native diffidence withdrew him from its personal obser- 
vation. Surely, learning so great, which claimed so little, 
will not be forgotten. The modesty which detained him 

in retirement during life introduces him now that he la 

n* 



250 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

dead. Strange reward! Merit which shrank from the 
living gaze is now observed of all men. The voice once 
so soft is returned in echoes from the tomb. 

I place in the front his modesty and his learning, two 
attributes by which he will be always remembered. I 
mighl enlarge on his sweetness of temper, his simplici- 
ty of life, his kindness to the young, his sympathy with 
studies of all kinds, his sensibility to beauty, his con- 
scientious character, his passionless mind. Could he 
speak to us of himself, he might adopt words of self- 
painting from the candid pen of his eminent predecessor 
in the cultivation of Grecian literature, leader of its re- 
\ ival in Europe, as Pickering was leader in America, — 
the urbane and learned Erasmus. " For my own part," 
says the early scholar to his English friend, John Colet, 
" I best know my own failings, and therefore shall pre- 
sume to give a character of myself. You have in me a 
man of little or no fortune, — a stranger to ambition, — of 
a strong propensity to loving-kindness and friendship, — 
without any boast of learning, but a great admirer of it, — 
one who has a profound veneration for any excellence in 
others, however he may fed the want of it in himself, — 
who can readily yield to others in learning, but to none 
in integrity, — a man sincere, open, and free, — a hater 
of falsehood and dissimulation, — of a mind lowly and 
upright, — of few words, and who boasts of nothing hut 
an honest heart." 1 

I have called him Scholar; for it is in this character 
that he leaves so excellent an example. But the tri- 
umphs of his life are enhanced by the variety of his 
Labors, and especially by his long career at the bar. He 
was a lawyer, whose days were spent in the faithful 

1 Era-mi Epist, Lib. V. Ep. 4. 



THE AIITIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 251 

practice of his profession, busy with clients, careful of 
their concerns in court and out of court Each day 

witnessed his untiring exertion in scenes little attrac- 
tive tn bis gentle and studious nature. He was formed 
to be a seeker of truth rather than a defender of wrong ; 
and la.' found less satisfaction in the strifes of the bar 
than in the conversation n\' hunks. To him litigation 
was a sorry feast, and a well-filled ducket of cases nut 
unlike the curious and now untasted dish <>\' " nettles," 
in the first course of a Roman banquet. He knew that 
the duties of the profession were important, hut felt that 
even their successful performance, when unattended by ju- 
ridical culture, gave small title to regard, while they were 
less pleasant and ennobling than the disinterested pur- 
suit of learning. He would have said, at least as regards 
hi- own profession, with the Lord Arclion of the Oceana, 
" I will stand no more to the judgment of lawyers and 
divines than to that of so men// other tradesmen." ' 

It was the law as a trad that he pursued reluctantly. 
while he had true happiness in the science of jurispru- 
dence, to which he devoted many hours rescued from 
other cares. By example, and contributions of the pen, 

he elevated the study, and invested it with the charm of 

liberal pursuits. By marvellous assiduity he was able 
to lead two lives, — one producing the fruits of earth, 
the other of immortality. In him was the union, rare 
is grateful, of lawyeT and scholar. He has taughl 
how mudi may he done for jurisprudence and learning 
even amidst the toils <<\' professional life; while the 
enduring lustre of his name contrasts with the fugitive 
reputation which is the lot of the mere lawyer, although 
clients heat at his gates from cock-cruw at the dawn. 

1 H:irrin£ton's Oceana, p. 134. 



252 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

To describe his labors of scholarship would he im- 
possible mi this occasion. Although important contri- 
butions to the sum of knowledge, they were of a char- 
acter only slightly appreciated by the world at large. 
They were chiefly directed to two subjects, — classical 
studies and general philology, if these two may be re- 
garded separately. 

His early life was marked by a particular interest in 
classical studies. At a time when, in our country, accu- 
rate and extensive scholarship was rare, he aspired to 
possess it. By daily and nightly toil he mastered the 
great exemplars of antiquity, and found delight in their 
beauties. His example was persuasive. And he added 
earnest effort to promote their study in the learned 
seminaries of our country. With unanswerable force 
he urged among us a stain lard of education commen- 
surate, in every substantial respect, with that of Eu- 
rope. He desired for the American youth on his native 
soil, under the influence of tree institutions, a course of 
instruction rendering foreign aid superfluous. He had 
ajusl pride of country, and longed for its good name 
through accomplished representatives, well knowing that 
the American scholar, wherever he wanders in foreign 
lands, is a living recommendation of the institutions 
under which he was reared. 

He knew that scholarship of all kinds would gild the 
Life of its possessor, enlarge the resources of the bar, 
enrich the voice of the pulpit, and strengthen the learn- 
ing of medicine. He knew that it would afford a sooth- 
ing companionship in hours of relaxation from labor, in 
periods of sadness, and in the evening of life; that, 
when once embraced, it was more constant than friend- 
ship, — attending its votary, as an invisible spirit, in the 



THE AKTIST, Till: PHILANTHBOPIST, 253 

toils of the 'lay, the watches of the night, the changes 
of travel, and the alternations of fortune or health. 

In commending classical studies Li would be difficult 
to say thai he attached to them undue importance. By 
his own example he showed thai he bore them uo ex- 
clusive love. He regarded them as an essential part of 
libera] education, opening the way to other realms of 
knowledge, while they mature the taste and invigorate 
the understanding. Here probably all will concur. It 
may be questioned, whether, in our hurried American 
life, it is possible, with proper regard for other studies, 
to introduce into ordinary classical education the ex- 
quisite skill which is the pride of Kurdish scholarship, 
reminding us of the minute finish in Chinese art, — or 
the ponderous and elaborate learning which is the won- 
der of Germany, reminding us of the unnatural perspec- 
tive in a Chinese picture, lint much will be done, if we 
establish those habits of accuracy, acquired only through 
early and careful training, which enable us at least to 
appreciate the severe beauty of antiquity, while they 
become an invaluable standard and measure of attain- 
ment in other things. 

The classics possess a peculiar charm, as models, I 
mighl say masters, of composition and form. In the 
contemplation of these august teachers we are filled 
with conflicting emotions. They are the early voice of 
the world, better remembered and more cherished than 
any intermediate voice,— as the language of childhood 
still haunts U s, when the utterances of later years are 
effaced from the mind. Hut they show the rudeness 
of the world's childhood, before passion yielded to 
the sway of reason and the affections. They want 
purity, righteousness, and that highest charm which is 



254 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

found in love to God and man. Not in the frigid phi- 
losophy of the Porch and the Academy are we to seek 
these ; not in the marvellous teachings of Socrates, as 
they come mended by the mellifluous words of Plato; 
not in the resounding line of Homer, on whose inspiring 
tale of blood Alexander pillowed his head ; not in the 
animated strain of Pindar, where virtue is pictured in 
the successful strife of an athlete at the Olympian games ; 
not in the torrent of Demosthenes, dark with self-love 
and the spirit of vengeance ; not in the fitful philosophy 
and boastful eloquence of Tully ; not in the genial lib- 
ertinism of Horace, or the stately atheism of Lucretius. 
To these we give admiration ; but they cannot be our 
highest teachers. In none of these is the way of life. 
For eighteen hundred years the spirit of these classics 
has been in constant contention with the Sermon on the 
Mount, and with those two sublime commandments on 
which "hang all the law and the prophets." 1 The strife 
is still pending, and who shah 1 say when it will end ? 
Heathenism, which possessed itself of such Siren forms, 
is not yet exorcised. Even now it exerts a powerful 
sway, imbuing youth, coloring the thought of man- 
hood, and haunting the meditation of age. Widening 
still in sphere, it embraces nations as well as individu- 
als, until it seems to sit supreme. 

1 Terence, taught, perhaps, by his own bitter experience as slave, has 
given expression to truth almost Christian, when he nays, — 

•• Homo sum, humarti nihil a me alienum puto." 

Ileauton., Act I. Sc. 1. 



And in the Andria, 



" Facile omnes perferre ae pati, 
Cum quibus eral cunque una: iis sese dedere : 
Eorum obsequi studiis: advorsus nemini: 
Nunquam praeponens se illis." 

Act I. Sc. 1. 



THE AKllsr, Tin; PHILANTHROPIST. 255 

Our own productions, though yielding to the ancienl 
in arrangement, method, beauty of form, and freshness 
of illustration, are superior in truth, delicacy, and eleva- 
tion of sentiment, — above all, in the recognition of thai 
peculiar revelation, the Ihotherhood of Man. Vain are 
eloquence ami poetry, compared with this heaven- 
descended truth. Put in one scale that simple ut- 
terance, and in the other all the lore of antiquity, with 
its accumulating glosses and commentaries, and the 
latter will he light in the balance. Greek poetry has 
been likened to the sou-- of the nightingale, as she sits 
in the rich, Bymmetrica] crown of the palm-tree, trilling 
her thick- warbled notes ; hut these notes will not com- 
pare in sweetness with those teachings of charity which 
belong to our Christian inheritance. 

These things cannot he forgotten by the scholar. 
From the Past he may draw all it can contribute to the 
great end of lite, human progress and happiness, — pro- 
gress, without which happiness is vain. But he must 
close his soul to the hardening influence of that spirit, 
which is more to he dreaded, as it is enshrined in com- 
positions of such commanding authority. 

" Sunk in Homer's mine, 
I !"-•' my precious years, now soon to fail, 
II dling hi- gold; which, howsoe'er it Bhine, 
Proves dross, when balanced in the Christian scale." 1 

In the department of philology } kindred to that of 
the classics, our Scholar labored with similar success. 
Unlike SirWilliam Jones in -cuius, he was like this 
English Bcholar in the multitude of languages he em- 
braced. Distance of time and space "was forgotten, as 
he explored the far-off primeval Sanscrit, — the hiero- 
1 Cowper, Sonnet to John Johnson: Minor Poems. 



L'.V, THE SCHOLAK, THE JURIST, 

glyphics of Egypt, now awakening from the mute 
repose of centuries, — the polite and learned tongues 
of ancient and modern Europe, — the languages of 
Mohammedanism, — the various dialects in the forests 
of North America, and in the sandal-groves of the 
Pacific, — only closing with a lingua franca from an 
unlettered tribe on the coast of Africa, to which his 
attention was called during the illness which ended in 
death. 

This recital exhibits the variety and extent of his 
studies in a department which is supposed inaccessible, 
except to peculiar and Herculean labors. He had a nat- 
ural and intuitive perception of affinities in language, 
and of its hidden relations. His researches have thrown 
important light on the general principles of this science, 
as also on the history and character of individual lan- 
guages. In devising an alphabet of the Indian tongues 
in North America, since adopted in the Polynesian 
[slands, he rendered a brilliant service to civilization. 
It is pleasant to contemplate the Scholar sending forth 
from his seclusion this priceless instrument of improve- 
ment. On the distant islands once moistened by the 
blood of Cook news] tapers and books are printed in a 
native; language, which was reduced to a written char- 
acter by the care and genius of Pickering. The Vocab- 
ulary of Americanisms and the Greek and English 
Lexicon attest still further the variety and value of his 
philological labors; nor can we sufficiently admire the 
facility with which, amidst the duties of an arduous 
profession and the temptations of scholarship, he as- 
sumed the appalling task of the lexicographer, which 
ScaligeT compares to the labors of the anvil and the 
mine. 



Tin: Ai;n>r. 1111: PHILANTHROPIST. 257 

There are critics, ignorant, hasty, or supercilious, who 
axe too apl to disparage the toils of the philologist, treat- 
ing them sometimes as curious only, sometimes as triv- 
Lai, or, when they enter into Lexicography, as those of a 
harmless drudge. Ii might be sufficient to reply, that 
all exercise of the intellect promoting forgetfulness of 
sell' and the Love of science ministers essentially to 
human improvement. But philology may claim other 
suffrages. It is its province to aid in determining 
tin- character of words, their extraction and signifi- 
cation, and in other ways to guide and explain the use 
of language; nor is it generous, while enjoying elo- 
quence, poetry, science, and the many charms of Litera- 
ture, to withhold our gratitude from silenl and sometimes 
obscure Labors in illustration of that great instrument 
without which all the rest is nothing. 

The science of Comparative Philology, which our 
Scholar has illustrated, may rank with shining pursuits. 
[1 challenges a place by the side of that science which 
received such development from the genius of Cuvier. 
The study of Comparative Anatomy has thrown unex- 
ted light on the physical history of the animate 
tion ; but it cannot be less interesting or important 
to explore the unwritten history of the human race in 

languages that have 1 n spoken, to trace their pedi- 

, to deteel their affinities, — seeking the prevailing 
law by which they are governed. As we comprehend 
these things, confusion and discord retreat, the Frater- 
nity of Man stands confessed, and the philologisl be- 
comes a minister at tin- altar of universal philanthropy. 
In the study of the Past, he learns to anticipate the 
Future; and in sublime vision he sees, with Leibnitz, 
that Unity of the Human Race which, in the succes- 

Q 



258 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

sion of ages, will find its expression in an instrument 
more marvellous than the infinite Calculus, — a uni- 
versal Language, with an alphabet of human thoughts. 1 

As the sun draws moisture from rill, stream, lake, and 
ocean, to be returned in fertilizing shower upon the 
earth, so did our Scholar derive knowledge from all 
sources, to be diffused in beneficent influence upon the 
world. He sought it not in study only, but in con- 
verse with men, and in experience of life. His curious 
essay on the Pronunciation of the Ancient Greek Lan- 
guage was suggested by listening to Greek sailors, whom 
the temptations of commerce had conducted to our 
shores from their historic sea. 

Such a character — devoted to works of wide and 
enduring interest, not restricted to international lines 
— awakened respect and honor wherever learning was 
cultivated. His name was associated with illustrious 
fraternities of science in foreign nations, while scholars 
who could not know him lace to face, by an ami- 
able commerce of letters sought the aid and sympa- 
thy of his learning. His death has broken these living 
links of fellowship; but his name, that cannot die, will 
continue to hind all who love knowledge and virtue to 
the land which was blessed by his presence. 



From the Scholar I pass to the Jurist. Joseph 
Story died in the month of September, 1845, aged sixty- 
six. His countenance, familiar in this presence, was 
always so beaming with goodness and kindness that its 
withdrawal seems to lessen sensibly the brightness of 

i Fontenelle, iSlogede Leibnitz: (Euvres, Tom. V. p. 498. Leibnitz, Opera, 
ed. Dutens, Vol. V. p. 7. 



Tin: AKTlsT, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 259 

the scene. We are assembled near the sent of his fa- 
vorite pursuits, among the neighbors intimate with bis 
private virtues, close by the home hallowed by his do- 
mestic altar. These paths he often trodjandall that 
our eyes here Look upon seems to reflecl his genial 
smile. His twofold official relations with the Univer- 
sity, his high judicial station, his higher character as 
Jurist, invesl his name with a peculiar interest, while 
the unconscious kindness which he showed to all, es- 
pecially the young, touches the heart, making us rise 
up ami call him blessed. How fondly would the youth 
nurtured in jurisprudence at his feel - were such an 
offering, Alcestis-like, within the allotments of Prov- 
idence — have prolonged their beloved master's days at 
the expense (if their own '. 

The University, by the voice of his learned associate, 
has already rendered tribute to liis name. The tri- 
bunals of justice throughoul the country have given 
utterance to their solemn grief, and the funeral torch 
has passed across the sea into foreign lands. 

lie has been heard to confess that literature was his 
earliest passion, which yielded only to a sterner sum- 
mons beckoning to professional life ; and they who 
knew him besl cannol forgel that he continued to the 
lasi loud of poetry and polite letters, and would often 
turn from Themis to the Miw.s Nor can it he doubted 
that this feature, which marks the resemblance to Sei- 
dell, Somers, Mansfield, and Blackstone, in England, and 
to L'H6pital and D'Aguesseau, in France, has added to 
the brilliancy and perfection of his character as a jurist. 
In the history of jurisprudence it would not he easy to 
mentions single person winning its highesi palm who 
was not ;i scholar also. 



260 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

The first hardships incident to study of the law, which 
perplexed the youthful spirit of the learned Spelman, be- 
set our Jurist with disheartening force. Let the young 
remember his trial and his triumph, and he of good 
cheer. According to the custom of his day, while yet 
a student in the town of Marblehead, he undertook 
to read Coke on Littleton, in the large folio edition, 
thatched over with those manifold annotations which 
cause the best-trained lawyer to " gasp and stare." 
Striving to force his way through the black-letter page, 
he was filled with despair. It was but a moment. 
The tears poured from his eyes upon the open book. 
Those tears were his precious baptism into the learning 
of the law. From that time forth he persevered, with 
ardor and confidence, from triumph to triumph. 

He was elevated to the bench of the Supreme Courl 
of the United States, by the side of Marshall, at the 
early age of thirty-two. At the same early age Buller 
— reputed the ablest judge of Westminster Hall, in the 
list of those who never arrived at the honors of Chief 
Justice — -Mas induced to renounce an income larger 
than the salary of a judge, to take a seat by the side 
of Mansfield. The parallel continues. During the re- 
mainder of Mansfield's career on the bench, Buller was 
the friend and associate upon whom he chiefly leaned ; 
ami history records the darling desire of the venerable 
Chief Justice that his faithful assistant should succeed 

to his seat and chain of office ; but these wishes, the 
hopes of the profession, and his own continued labors 
were disregarded by a minister who seldom rewarded 
any but political services, — I mean Mr. Pitt. Our 
brother, like Buller, was the friend and associate of a 
venerable chief justice, by whose side he sat for many 



nir akiist, T1IK PHILANTHROPIST. 261 

Tears; hot do I Btate any Gael which I should no1 for 
the sake of history, when T add, that it was the Long- 
cherished desire of Marshal] that Story Bhould be liis 

successor. It was ordered otherwise ; ami he continued 
a judge Hi' the Supreme Court for the space of thirty- 
four years, — a judicial lite "i' almost unexampled Length 
in the history of the Common Law, and of precisely 
the same duration with the illustrious magistracy of 
D'Aguesseau in Prance. 

A- judge, he was called to administer a most ex- 
tensive jurisdiction, embracing matters which in Eng- 
land are so variously distributed that they never come 
before anyone court; and in each department he has 
shown himself second to none other, unless we unite 
with him in deferring to Marshall as the greatest ex- 
pounder of a lna nch peculiar to ourselves, Constitutional 
Law. Not will it he easy to mention any other judge 
who has left behind bo large a number of judgments 
which belong to the first elass in the literature of the law. 
Some excel in a special branch, to winch their Learning 
and labor are directed. He excelled in all. At home 
in tin- feudal niceties of Eeal Law, with its depen- 
dencies of descents, remainders, and executory devises, 
— also in the amient hair-splitting technicalities of 
Special Pleading, — both creatures of an illiterate age, 
gloomy with black-letter and verbal subtilties, — he was 
most skilful in using and expounding the rules of Evi- 
dence, the product of a more refined period of juridical 
history, — was master of the common law of Contracts, 
and of Commercial Law in its wide expanse, embracing 
so la r-e a part of those topics which concern the busi- 
ness of OUT age, — was familiar with Criminal Law, 
which he administered with the learning of a judge and 



262 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

the tenderness of a parent, — had compassed the whole 
circle of Chancery in its jurisdiction and its pleadings, 
touching all the interests of life, and subtilely adapting 
the Common Law to our own age ; and he ascended witli 
ease to those less trodden heights where are extended 
the rich demesnes of Admiralty, the Law of Prize, and 
that comprehensive theme, embracing all that history, 
philosophy, learning, literature, human experience, and 
Christianity have testified, — the Law of Nations. 

It was not as judge only that he served. He sought 
other means of illustrating the science of the law which 
lie loved so well, and to the cares of judicial life super- 
added the labors of author and teacher. To this he was 
moved by passion for the law, by desire to aid its elu- 
cidation, and by the irrepressible instinct of his nature, 
which found in incessant activity the truest repose. His 
was that constitution of mind where occupation is the 
normal state. He was possessed by a genius for labor. 
Others may moil in law as constantly, but without his 
loving, successful study. What he undertook he always 
did with heart, soul, and mind, — not with reluctant, 
vain compliance, but with his entire nature bent, to the 
task. As in social life, so was he in study: his heart 
embraced Labor, as Ids hand -rasped the hand of friend. 

A- teacher, he should be gratefully remembered 
lure. He was Dane Professor of Law in the Univer- 
sity. By the attraction of his name students were 
drawn from remote parts of the Union, and the Law 
School, which had been a sickly branch, became the 

golden mistletoe of our ancient, oak. 1 Besides learning 
unsurpassed in his profession, he brought other qualities 

1 "Tali- erat species auri frondentia opaca 
Ilice." 

^Eneh, VI. 208. 



THE AKTIST, Till: PHILANTHROPIST. 263 

not less important in a teacher,— goodness, benevolence, 
and a^willingness to teach. Only a good man can be a 
teacher, only a benevolent man, only a man willing 
to teach. He was filled with a desire to teach. He 
sought to mingle his mind with that of his pupil To 
pour into tlic souls of the young, as into celestial urns, 
the fruitful waters of knowledge, was to him a blessed 
office. The kindly enthusiasm of his nature found 
a response Law. sometimes supposed to be harsh 
and crabbed, became inviting main- his instructions. 
Ks great principles, drawn from experience and re- 
flection, from the rules of right and wrong, from the 
unsounded depths of Christian truth, illustrated by the 
learning of sages and the judgments of courts, he un- 
folded so as tn inspire a love for their study, — well 
knowing that the knowledge we impart is trivial, 
compared with that awakening of the soul under thu 
influence of which the pupi] himself becomes teacher. 
All of knowledge we can communicate is finite; a few 
is, a few chapters, a tew volumes, will embrace it; 
but such an influence is of incalculable power. It is 
the breath of a new life; it is another soul. Story 
taught as priest of the law seeking to consecrate 
other priests. In him the spirit spake, not with the 
voice 'if earthly calling, hut with the gentleness and 
self-forgetful earnestness of one pleading in behalf of 
justice, knowledge, happiness. His well-loved pupils 
hung upon his lips, and, as they Left his presence, con- 
fessed new reverence for virtue, and warmer love of 
knowledge for its own sake. 

The spirit which glowed in his teachings tilled his 
life. He was, in the t ruest sense, Jurist, — student 
and expounder of jurisprudence as a science, — oot 



264 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

merely lawyer or judge, pursuing it as an art. This 
distinction, though readily perceived, is not always re- 
garded. 

Mr ml icis of the profession, whether on the bench or 
at the bar, seldom send their regard beyond the case 
directly before them. The lawyer is generally content 
with the applause of the court-house, the approbat ion 
n]' clients, "fat contentions, and flowing fees." Infre- 
quently does he render voluntary service felt beyond 
the limited circle in which he moves, or helping for- 
ward the landmarks of justice. The judge, in the dis- 
charge of Ids duty, applies the law to the case before 
him. He may do this discreetly, honorably, justly, 
benignly, in such wise that the community who looked 
to him for justice shall pronounce his name with 
gratitude, — 

" That his bones, 
When lie has run his course and sleeps in blessings, 
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'cm." 

But the function of lawyer or judge, both practising 
law, is unlike that of the jurist, who, whether judge 
or lawyer, examines every principle in the light of 
science, and, while doing justice, seeks to widen and 
confirm the means of justice hereafter. All ages have 
abounded in lawyers and judges; there is no church- 
yard that does not contain their forgotten dust. But 
the jurist is rare. The judge passes the sentence of 
the law upon the prisoner at the bar face to face; but 
the jurist, invisible to mortal sight, yet speaks, as was 
said iif the Roman haw, swaying by the reason, when 

he has ceased to gOVeTD 1 > V the living Voice. Such a 

character does not live tor the present only, whether 

in time or place. .Ascending above its temptations, 



Tin: aiitim', Tin: PHILANTHROPIST. L'<',:. 

yielding neithei to the love of gain nor to the seduc- 
tion of ephemeral praise, In- perseveres in those se- 
rene labors which help to build the mighty dome of 
justice, beneath which -all men arc to seek shelter ami 
peace. 

It is qoI uncommon to hear the complaint of lawyers 
ami judges, as they liken themselves, in short-lived 
fame, to the well-graced actor, of whom only uncertain 
traces remain when his voice lias ceased in charm. But 
they labor for the present only. How can they hope to 
he remembered beyond the present? They are instru- 
ments of a temporary ami perishable purpose. How 
can they hope for more than they render? They do 
nothing fur all. How can they think to he rememhered 
beyond the operation of their labors ? So far forth, in 
time or place, as any beneficent influence is felt, so far 
will its author he gratefully commemorated. Happy 
may he he, if he has done aught to connect his name 
with the enduring principles of justice ! 

In the world's history, lawgivers are anions the sreat- 
and most godlike characters. They are reform- 
ers of nations. They are builders of human society. 
They are fit companions of the master poets who fill 
it with their melody. Man will never forget Homer, 
Virgil, Dante, Shakespeare, Milton, Goethe, — nor those 
i it her names of creative force, Minos, Solon, Lycurgus, 
Numa, Justinian, St. Louis, Napoleon the legislator. 
Each is too closely linked with human progress not to 
be always remembered. 

In their train follow the company of jurists, whose 
labors have the value without the form of legislation, 
and whose recorded opinions, uttered from the chair of a 
professor, the bench of a judge, or, it may be, from the 

VOL. I. 12 



266 the scholar, the jurist, 

seclusion of private life, continue to rule the nations. 
Here are Papinian, Tribonian, Paulus, Gaius, ancient, 
time-honored masters of the Roman Law, — Cujas, its 
most illustrious expounder in modern times, of whom 
D'Aguesseau said, "Cujas has spoken the language of 
the law better than any modern, and perhaps as well 
as any ancient," and whose renown during life, in the 
golden age of jurisprudence, was such that in the public 
schools of Germany, when his name was mentioned, all 
took off their hats, — Dumoulin, kinsman of our Eng- 
lish Queen Elizabeth, and most illustrious expounder 
of municipal law, one of wdiose books was said to have 
accomplished what thirty thousand soldiers of his mon- 
arch failed to do, — Hugo Grotius, filled with all knowl- 
edge and loving all truth, author of that marvellous 
work, at times divine, at other times, alas! too much 
of this earth, the " Laws of War and Peace," — John 
Selden, who against Grotius vindicated for his country 
the dominion of the sea, supped with Hen Jonson at 
the Mermaid, and became, according to contemporary 
judgment, the great dictator of learning to the English 
nation, — D'Aguesseau, who brought scholarship to ju- 
risprudence throughout a long life elevated by justice 
and refined by all that character and study could be- 
stow, awakening admiration even at. the outset, so thai 
a retiring magistrate declared that he should be glad 
to end as the young man began, — Pothier, whose pro- 
fessor's chair was kissed in reverence by pilgrims from 
afar, while from his recluse life he sent forth those 
treatises which enter so largely into the invaluable 
codes of France, — Cuke, the indefatigable, pedantic, 
but truly Learned author and judge, Mansfield, the 
Chrysostom of the bench, and Llackstone, the ele- 



Tin: AKTlsT, THE PHILANTHEOPIST. 267 

ganl commentator, who are among the Pew exemplars 
within the boasl of the English Common Law, — and, 
d( scending to our own day, Pardessus, of France, 
to whom commercial and maritime law is under a 
larger debt, perhaps, than to any single mind, — Thi- 
baut, of Germany, earnesl and successful advocate of 
a just scheme for tin' reduction of the unwritten law 
t>> the certainty of a written text, — Savigny, also 
of Germany, renowned illustrator of the Roman Law, 
wliii is yet spared to his favorite science,- — and in 
our own country one now happily among us to-day by 
hi- Mm, 1 James Kent, the unquestioned living head 
of American jurisprudence. These are among jurists. 
Let them not he confounded with the lawyer, bustling 
with forensic success, although, like Dunning, ail li- 
ter of Westminster Hall, or, like Pinkney, acknowl- 
edged chief of the American bar. The jurist is higher 
than the lawyer, — as Watt, who invented the steam- 
engine, is higher than the journeyman who feeds its 
fires and pours oil upon its irritated machinery, — as 
Washington is more exalted than the Swiss, who, indif- 
ferenl to the cau-e. barters for money the vigor of his 
arm and the sharpness of his Bpear. 

The lawyer is the honored artisan of the law. To- 
ken-. ,,(' worldly success surround him; hut his labors 
are on the things of to-day. His name is written on 
the sandy margin of the sounding sea, soon to he washed 
away by tin' embossed foam of the tyrannous wave. 
Not so is the name of the jurist. This is inscribed on 
the immortal tablets of the law. The ceaseless How of 
- does qo1 wear off their indestructible front ; the 

1 H"n. William Kent, recently appointed Royal] Professor of Law in 
Harvard University. 



268 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

hour-glass of Time refuses to measure the period of their 
duration. 

In; (i the company of Jurists Story has now passed, 
taking place, not only in the immediate history of his 
country, hut in the grander history of civilization. It 
was a saying of his, often uttered in the confidence of 
friendship, that a man may be measured by the horizon 
of his mind, whether it embraces the village, town, 
county, or state in which he lives, or the whole broad 
country, — ay, the world itself. In this spirit he lived 
and wrought, elevating himself above the present, and 
always finding in jurisprudence an absorbing inter- 
est. Only a few days before the illness ending in 
death, it was suggested to him, that, as he was about to 
retire from the bench, there were many who would be 
glad to see him President. He replied at once, sponta- 
neously, and without hesitation, " that the office of 
President of the United States would not tempt him 
from his professor's chair and from the law." So 
spoke the Jurist. As lawyer, judge, professor, he was 
always Jurist. While administering justice between 
parties, he sought to extract from their cause the ele- 
ments of future justice, and to advance t lie science of 
the law. Thus his judgments have a value stamped 
upon them which is not restricted to the occasions when 
they were pronounced. Like the gold coin of the Re- 
public, they bear the image and superscription of sov- 
ereignty, which is recognized wherever they go, c\c\i 
in foreign lauds. 

Many years ago his judgments in matters of Admi- 
ralty and Prize arrested the attention of that famous 
judge and jurist, Lord Stowell; and Sir James Mackin- 
tosh, a name emblazoned by literature and jurisprudence, 



mi: AkiiM, Tin: PHILANTHBOPIST. 269 

said of them, thai they were "justly admired by all cul- 
tivators of the Law of Nations." 1 He baa often been 
cited as authority in Westminster Hall, — an English 
tribute to a foreign jurist almosl unprecedented, as all 
familiar with English law will know; and the Chief 
Justice of England made the remarkable declaration, 
with regard to a point on which Story differed from 
the Queen's Bench, thai his opinion would "at least 
neutralize the effect of the English decision, and in- 
duce any of their courts to consider the question as 
an open one." 2 In the House of Lords, Lord (.'amp- 
hell characterized him as "one of the greatest orna- 
ments of the United states, who had a greater reputa- 
tion as a legal writer than any author England could 
boast since the days of Blackstone" ; 8 and, in a letter 
to our departed brother, the same distinguished mag- 
istrate said : " I survey with increased astonishment 
your extensive, minute, exact, and familiar knowledge 
of English legal writers in every department of the law. 
A similar testimony to your juridical learning, I make 
ii" doubt, would be dffered by the lawyers of France and 
Germany, as well as of America, and we should all eon- 
cur in placing yon at the head of the jurists of the pres- 
ent age." 4 His authority Mas acknowledged in France 
and Germany, the classic lands of jurisprudence; nor is 
it too much to say, thai at the moment of his death he 

! I tter of Sir James Mackintosh to Hon. Edward Everett, dated .Tunc 8, 
1824: Life and Letters of Story, Vol. I. p. 435. 

- Letter of Lord Penman to Charles Sumner, Esq., dated September 29, 
1M": Life and Letters of Story, Vol II. p. ■'>''<■ The case to which Lord 
Denman referred was that of Peters v. The Warren Insurance Company, 
3 Sumner's Rep. 889, where Mr. .1 u-t i<-.- Story dissented from the case of 
DeVmtxv.8aitador t l Adolph. & I ; -. 420. 

s Hansard, Pari. Deb., I.XVIII. 667. 

4 Life and Letters of Story, Vol. II. p. 429. 



270 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

enjoyed a renown such as had never before been achieved, 
during life, by any jurist of the Common Law. 

In this recital I state simply facts, without intending 
to assert presumptuously for our brother any precedence 
in the scale of eminence. The extent of his fame 
is a fact. It. will not be forgotten, as a proper con- 
trast to his fame, which was not confined to his own 
country or to England, that the cultivators of the Com- 
mon Law have hitherto enjoyed little more than an insu- 
lar reputation, and that even its great master received 
on the Continent no higher designation than qitidam 
Cocus, "one Coke." 

In the Common Law was the spirit of liberty ; in that 
of the Continent the spirit of science. The Common 
Law has given to the world trial by jury, habeas corpus. 
parliamentary representation, the rules and orders of 
debate, and that benign principle which pronounces that 
its air is too pure for a slave to breathe, — perhaps the 
five most important political establishments of modern 
times. From the Continent proceeded the important 
impulse to the systematic study, arrangement, and de- 
velopmenl <>f t lie law, — also the example of Law Schools 
and of Codes. 

Story was bred in the Common Law; but while ad- 
miring its vital principles of freedom, he felt how much 
it would gain from science, and from other systems of 
jurisprudence. In his later labors he never forgot this 
object : and under his hands we behold the development 
of a study until him little known or regarded, — the 
science of Comparative Jurisprudence, kindred to those 
other departments of knowledge which exhibit the rela- 
tions of the human family, and showing that amidst 
diversity there is unity. 



THE AKT1ST, Till'. PHILANTHROPIST. 271 

1 11 1 nut add thai he emulated the law schools of 

the Continent, — aa "ever witness for him" this scat 
of learning. 

< >n more than one occasion, he urged, with conclusive 
force, the importance of reducing the unwritten law to 
the certainty of a code, compiling and bringing into 
one bodv fragments uow scattered in all directions, 
through the pages <>f many thousand volumes. 1 His 
views "ii tin's subject, while differing from those of 
John Locke and Jeremy Bentham, — both of whom 
supposed themselves able to clothe a people in a new 
code, as in fresh garments, — arc in substantia] har- 
mony with the ('(inclusions dow adopted by the jurists 
of Continental Europe, and not unlike those of an ear- 
lier age having the authority of Bacon and Leibnitz, 
the two greatest intellects ever applied to topics of 
jurisprudence in modern times. 2 

In this catholic spirit he showed true eminence. He 
loved the law with a lover's fondness, bul qo1 with a 
lover's blindness. Ee could not join with those devo- 
of the Common haw by whom it is entitled "the 
perfection of reason," — an anachronism great as the 
assumed infallibility of the Pope: as if perfection or 
infallibility existed in this world! Ee was led, in be- 
coming temper, to contemplate its amendment ; and 
h.-re is revealed the Jurist, — not content with the pres- 
ent, but thoughtful of the future. In a letter pub- 
lished Bince his death, he refers with sorrow to " what 

1 Encyclopaedia Americana, article Law, Legislation, Codes, Appendix to 

Vol. VII. pp. 676 - 692. Report of the Commissioners of Massachusetts on 

Codification of the Common Law. American Jurist, Vol. XVII. p. 17. 

- Bacon, Offer to Kin? .Tame- of a I)i>_'"-t to bo mailc of the Laws of Eng- 
land: Works, Vol. II. |>. 648, 4 to ed. Leibnitz, Ratio Corporis Juris recon- 
cinnandi; Epist XV., ad Kestnerum: Opera, Tom. IV. Pare iii. pp. 285, 269. 

VOL. I. 8 



272 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

is but too common in our profession, — a disposition to 
resist innovation, even when it is improvement." It 
is an elevated mind that, having mastered the sub- 
tilties of the law, is willing to reform them. 

And now farewell to thee, Jurist, Master, Benefactor, 
Friend ! -May thy spirit continue to inspire a love for 
the science of the law ! May thy example be ever fresh 
in the minds of the young, beaming, as in life, with en-" 
couragement, kindness, and joy ! 



From the grave of the Jurist, at Mount Auburn, let 
us walk to that of the Artist, who sleeps beneath the 
protecting arms of those trees which cast their shadow 
into this church. Washington Allston died in the 
month of July, 1843, aged sixty-three, having reached 
the grand climacteric, that famous mile-stone on the 
road of life. It was Saturday nighi : t lie cares of the 
week were over ; the pencil and brush were laid in re- 
pose ; the great canvas, on which for many years he 
had sought to perpetuate the image of Daniel confront- 
ing the soothsayers of Belshazzar, was left, with fresh 
chalk lines designating the labor to be resumed after 
the repose of the Sabbath; the evening was passed in 
the converse of family and friends ; words of benedic- 
tion had fallen from his lips upon a behw ed relative : all 
bad ivt ired for the night, leaving him alone, in health, to 
receive the visitation of Death, sudden, but not unpre- 
pared for. Happy Lot, thus to be borne away with 
blessings on the lips, — not through the long valley of 
disease, amidsl the sharpness of pain, and the darkness 
thai clouds the slowly departing spirit, bui straighl up- 
ward, through realms of light, swiftly, yet gently, as on 
the wings of a dove ! 



i in: a km-- i . Tin: run. an rHBOFlST. 273 

The early shades of evening began to prevail before 
the body of the Artist reached its hist resting-place; 
and the solemn Bervice of the church was read in the 
open air, by the flickering flame of a torch, — fit image 
of life. In the -roii]» of mourners who bore a lasl trib- 
ute to wnat was mortal in him of whom so much was 
immortal stood our Jurist Overflowing with tender- 
ness and appreciation of merit in all Its forms, his smil 
was touched by the scene. In vivid words, as he slowly 
left the church-yard, he poured forth his admiration and 
his grief Never was such an Arti>t mourned bysueh a 
.Tin 

Of Allston may we repeal the words in which Burke 
commemorated his friend Sir Joshua Reynolds, when he 
says, "He was the first who added the praise of the 
elegant arts to the other glories of his country." 1 An 
in-minus English writer, who sees Art with the eye of 
taste and humanity, and whom I quote with sympathy, 
if not with entire assent, lias said, in a recent publica- 
tion on our Artist, "It seemed to me that in him 
America had lost her third great man. What Washing- 
ton was as a statesman, ( 'hanninu as a moralist, that was 
Allston as an artist." 2 

Eere again is discerned the inseparable anion between 
character and works. Allston was a good man, with a 
soul refined by purity, exalted by religion, softened by 
love. In manner he was simple, yet courtly, — quiet, 
though anxious to please, — kindly to all alike, the poor 
and lowly nol less than the rich and -real. As he 
Bpoke, in that voice of gentlest utterance, all were 

1 Prior. Life of Burke, Vol. II. p. 190. 

- Mrs. Jameson, Memoirs and Essays: Washington Allston, p. 126. (New 
York, 1846.) 

12* K 



274 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

charmed to listen; and the airy-footed hours often 
tripped on far towards the gates of morning, before his 
friends could break from his spell. His character is 
transfigured in his works. The Artist is always in- 
spired by tin- man. 

His life was consecrated to Art. He lived to diffuse 
Beauty, as writer, poet, painter. As an expounder of 
principles in las art, he will take a place with Leo- 
nardo da Vinci, Albert Diirer, Sir Joshua Eeynolds, and 
Fuseli. His theory of painting, as developed in his 
still unpublished discourses, and in that tale of beauty, 
" Monaldi," is an instructive memorial of conscientious 
study. In the small group of painter-poets — poets 
by the double title of pencil and pen — he holds an 
honored place. His ode "America to Great Britain," 
which is among the choice lyrics of the language, is su- 
perior to the satirical verse of Salvator Rosa, and may 
claim companionship with the remarkable sonnets of 
Michel Angelo. It was this which made no less a judge 
than S<»u they place him among the first poets of the 
age. 

In youth, while yet a pupil at the University, his 
busy fingers found pleasure in drawing ; and a pen-and- 
ink sketch from his hand at that time is still preserved 
in the records of a college society. Shortly after leav- 
ing Cambridge he repaired to Europe, in the pursuit of 
Ait. At Paris were then collected the masterpieces of 
painting and sculpture, the spoils of unholy war, robbed 
from their native galleries and churches to swell the 
pomp of the Imperial capital. There our Art is1 devoted 
his days to diligent study of his profession, particu- 
larly to drawing, so important to accurate art. At a 
later day, alluding to these thorough labors, he said he 



T1IK AKT1ST, THE PHILANTHBOPIST. 275 

"worked like a mechanic." To these, perhaps, may be 
referred his singular excellence in that necessary, but 
neglected branch, which is to Ait what grammar is to 
language. Grammar and DesigD arc treated by Aris- 
totle mi a level. 

Turning his hack upon Paris and the greatness of the 
Empire, he directed his steps towards Italy, the en- 
chanted ground of literature, history, and art, — strown 
with richest memorials of the Past, — tilled with scenes 
memorable in the Progress of Man, — teaching by the 

pages «'!' philosophers and historians, — vocal with the 

melody of poets, — ringing with the music which St. 
1 ilia protects, — glowing with the living marble and 
canvas, — beneath a sky of heavenly purity and 
brightness, — with the sunsets which Claude has paint- 
ed, — parted by the Apennines, early witnesses of the 
unrecorded Etruscan civilization, — surrounded by the 
snow-capped Alps, ami the blue, classic waters of the 
Mediterranean Sea. The deluge of war submerging 
Europe had subsided here, and our Artist took up his 
peaceful abode in Rome, the modern home of Art. 
Strange vicissitude of condition! Rome, sole surviving 
city of Antiquity, once disdaining all that could be 
wrought by the cunning hand of sculpture, — 

" Excndeni :i!ii spirantia mo]liu« sera, 
Credo equidem: vivos ducent de marmore vnltus," — 

who has commanded the world by her arms, her ju- 
risprudence, her church, — now sways it further by 
her arts. Pilgrims from afar, where her eagles, her 
praetors, her interdicts never reached, become willing 
subjects of this new empire; and the Vatican, stored 
with the priceless remains of Antiquity, and the touch- 
ing creations of modern art, has succeeded to the Yati- 



276 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

can whose thunders intermingled with the strifes of 
modem Europe. 

At Rome he was happy in the friendship of Cole- 
ridge, and in long walks cheered by his companionship. 
We can well imagine that the author of "Genevieve" 
and "The Ancient Mariner" would find sympathy with 
Allston. It is easy to recall these two natures, trem- 
blingly alive to beauty of all kinds, looking together 
upon those majestic ruins, upon the manifold accumu- 
lations of Time, upon the marble which almost speaks, 
and upon the warmer canvas, — listening together to 
the flow of perpetual fountains, fed by ancient aque- 
ducts, — musing together in the Forum on the mighty 
footprints of History, — and entering together, with 
sympathetic awe, that grand Christian church whose 
dome rises a majestic symbol of the comprehensive 
Christianity which is the promise of the Future. 
'• Never judge a work of art by its defects," was a 
lesson of Coleridge to his companion, which, when 
extended, by natural expansion, to the other tilings of 
life, is a sentiment of justice and charity, more precious 
than a statue of Praxiteles or a picture of Raphael 

In England, where our Artist afterwards passed sev- 
eral years, bis intercourse with Coleridge was renewed, 
and he became the friend and companion of Lamb and 
Wordsworth also. Returning to his own country, he 
spoke of them with fondness, and often dwelt upon 
their genius and virtue. 

In considering his character as an Artist, we may re- 
gard him in three different respects, — drawing, color, 
and expression or sentiment. It has already been seen 
that he devoted himself with uncommon zeal to draw- 
ing. His works bear witness to this excellence. There 



THE AETIST, THE PHILANTHEOPIST. 277 

are chalk outline-; by him, sketched on canvas, which 
are clear and definite as anything from the classic touch 
of Flaxman. 

His excellence in color was remarkable. This seem- 
ing mystery, which is a distinguishing characteristic of 
artists in different schools, periods, and countries, is uot 
unlike that of language in literature. Color is to the 
painter what words are to t he author ; and as the writers 
of one age or place arrive at a peculiar mastery in lan- 
guage, so do artists excel in color. It would he difficult 
to account satisfactorily for the rich idiom suddenly as- 
sumed by our English tongue in the contemporaneous 
prose of Sidn.v, Hooker, and Bacon, and in the unap- 
proached affluence of Shakespeare. It might he as 
difficult to account for the unequalled tints which shone 
on the canvas of Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, and Titian, 
masters of what is called the Venetian School. Igno- 
rance has sometimes referred these glories to concealed 
or lost artistic rules in combinations of color, not think- 
ing that they can he traced only to a native talent 
for color, prompted into activity by circumstances diffi- 
cult at this late period to determine. As some possess 
a peculiar, untaught felicity and copiousness of words 
without accurate knowledge of grammar, so there are 
artists exi ailing in rich and splendid color, hut ignorant 
of drawing, and, on the other hand, accurate drawing 
i- Bometimes coldly clad in unsatisfactory color. 

Allston was largely endowed by Nature with the 
talent for color, which was strongly developed under 
the influence of Italian art. While in Rome, he was 
remarked for his excellence in this respect, and re- 
ceived from ( rerman painters there the flattering title of 
" American Titian." Critics of authority have said that 



278 THE SCHOLAB, THE JURIST, 

the clearness and vigor of Iris color approached that of 
the elder masters. 1 Rich and harmonious as the verses 
of the " Faery Queen," it was uniformly soft, mellow, and 
appropriate, without the garish brilliancy of the modern 
French School, calling to mind the saying of the blind 
man, that red resembles the notes of a trumpet. 

He affected no secret or mystery in the preparation 
of colors. What he knew he was ready to impart : his 
genius he could not impart. With simple pigments, ac- 
cessible to all alike, he reproduced, with glowing brush, 
the tints of Nature. All that his eyes looked upon fur- 
nished a lesson. The flowers of the field, the foliage of 
the forest, the sunset glories of our western horizon, the 
transparent azure above, the blackness of the storm, the 
soft gray of twilight, the haze of an Indian summer, 
the human countenance animate with thought, and that 
finest color in Nature, according to the ancient Greek, 
the hlush of ingenuous youth, — these were the sources 
from which he drew. With a discerning spirit he 
mixed them on his palette, and with the eye of sym- 
pathy saw them again on his canvas. 

Bui richness of color superadded to accuracy of 
diawing cannot secure the highest place in Art; and 
here I approach a more harmonious topic. Expression, 
or, in other words, the sentiment, the thought, the soul, 
which inspires the work, is not less important than that 
which animates the printed page or beams from the 
human countenance. The mere imitation of inanimate 
Nature belongs to the humbler schools of Art. The 
skill of Zeuxis, which drew birds to peck at the grapes 
on his canvas, and the triumph of Parrhasius, who de- 

i Bunsen, Beschreibung der Stadt Rom, Band I. p. 588. Article on 
.l/./'A ru Art, by K. Plainer, 



THE AKTisT, THE PB3LANTHE0PIST. 279 

ceived his rivaJ by a painted curtain, cannol compare 
with those pictures which seem articulate with the 
voices of humanity. The highesl form of Art is thai 
which represents man in the highesl scenes and under 
the influence of the highest sentiments. And thai 
quality or characteristic called expression is the highesl 
element of Art. It is tins which gives to Raphael, 
who yields to Titian in color, such acknowledged emi- 
nence. Bis soul was brimming with sympathies, which 
his cunning hand kept alive in immortal pictures. Eye, 
mouth, countenance, the whole composition, has life, — 
not the life of mere imitation, copied from common 
Nature, but elevated, softened, refined, idealized. Be- 
holding his works, we forget the colors in which they 
are robed ; we gaze at living forms, and look behind 
the painted screen of flesh into living souls. A genius 
so largely endowed with the Promethean lire has been 
not unaptly called Divine. 

It was said by Plato that nothing is beautiful which 
is nut morally good. But this is not a faultless propo- 
sition. Beauty is of all kinds and degrees; and it ex- 
ists everywhere beneath the celestial canopy, in us ami 
about us. It is that completeness or linish which 
gives pleasure to the mind. It is found in the color 
of a flower, and the accuracy of geometry, — in an 
act of self-sacrifice, and the rhythm of a poem, — 
in the virtues of humanity, and the marvels of the 
visible world, — in the meditations of a solitary soul, 
and the stupendous mechanism of civil society. There 
is beauty where there is neither life nor morality; but 
the highest form of beauty i- in the perfection of the 
1 nature. 

The highest beauty of expression is a grace of Chris- 



280 THE SCHQLAK, THE JURIST, 

tian art. It flows from sensibilities, affections, and 
struggles peculiar to the Christian character. It breathes 
] unity, gentleness, meekness, patience, tenderness, peace. 
It abhors pride, vain-glory, selfishness, intemperance, 
lust, Mai-. How celestial, compared with that which 
dwells in perfection of form or color only! The beauty 
of ancient art found congenial expression in the fault- 
less form of Aphrodite rising from the sea, 1 and in 
the majestic mien of Juno, with snow-white arms, 
and royal robes, seated on a throne of gold, 2 — not 
in the soul-lit countenance of her who w r atched the in- 
fant in his manger-cradle, and throbbed with a mother's 
heart beneath the agonies of the cross. 

Allston was a Christian artist ; and the beauty of 
expression lends uncommon charm to his colors. All 
that he did shows purity, sensibility, refinement, deli- 
cacy, feeling, rather than force. His genius was al- 
most feminine. As he advanced in years, this was more 
remarked. 1 1 is pici ures became more and more instinct 
with those sentiments which form the true glory of Art. 
Early in life lie had a partiality for pieces representing 
banditti; but this taste does not appear in his later 
works. And when asked if he would undertake to fill 
the vacant panels in the rotunda of the Capitol at 
Washington, should Congress determine to order such 
a work, lie is reported to have said, in memorable 
winds, " I will paint only one subject, and choose my 
own: No battle-piece /" 3 This incident, so honorable to 
the Artist, is questioned; but it is certain that on 
more than one occasion he avowed a disinclination to 

i Ovid, Tristia, Lib. II. r,-j7. 
- Martial, Epig., Lib. X. 89. 

8 Dunlap's Bistory of the Arts of Design, Vol. II. p. 188. Mrs. Jameson's 
Memoirs and Essays: Washington Allston, p. 114. 



T1IH AKTlsT, T1IK PHILANTHROPIST. 281 

]>;iint battle-pieces. I am not aware it' he assigned any 
reason, [a it too much to suppose thai his refined 
artistic sense, recognizing expression as the highest 
beauty of Art, unconsciously judged the picture? The 
ancient Greek epigram, describing the Philoctetes of 
Parrhasius, an image of hopeless wretchedness and con- 
suming grief, rises to a like sentiment, when it says, 
with mild rebuke, — 

■• \\ .' blame thee, painter, though thy skill commend; 
'T \\:i> time hi- Bufferings with himself should end." ' 

In another tone, and with cold indifference to human 

suffering, Lucretius sings, in often -(Rioted verse, that 
it is pleasant, when beyond the reach of danger, to be- 
hold the shock of contending armies : — 

"Suave etiam belli certamina magna tueri."2 

In like heathen spirit, it may he pleasant to beheld 
a battle-piece in Art. But this is wrong. Admitting 
the calamitous necessity of Avar, it can never be with 
pleasure — it cannot be without sadness unspeakable — 
that we survey its fiendish encounter. The artist of 
purest aim, sensitive to these emotions, withdraws 
naturally from the field of blood, confessing that no 
scene of battle finds a place in the highest Art, — that 
man, created in the image of God, can never be pic- 
tured degrading, profaning, violating that sacred image. 
Were this sentiment adopted in literature as in Art, 
war would be shorn of its false glory. Poet, historian, 
orator, all Bhould join with the Artist in Baying, No 
battle-piece! Let them cease to dwell, except with 
pain and reprobation, upon those dismal exhibitions of 

i AnthoL Lib. IV. Tit. viii. Ep. 86. 

- I. . it-tin?, De Kerum Natura, Lib. II. 6. 



282 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

human passion where the life of friends is devoted to 
procure the death of enemies. No pen, no tongue, no 
pencil, by praise or picture, can dignify scenes from 
which God averts His eye. It is true, man has slain 
his fellow-man, armies have rushed in deadly shock 
against armies, the blood of brothers has been spilled. 
These are tragedies which History enters sorrowfully, 
tearfully, in her faithful record; but this generous Muse 
with too attractive colors must not perpetuate the pas- 
sions from which they sprang or the griefs they caused. 
Be it her duty to dwell with eulogy and pride on all 
that is magnanimous, lovely, beneficent; let this be 
preserved by votive canvas and marble also. But JYo 
battle-jriccc ! 

In the progress of truth, the animal passions degrad- 
ing our nature are by degrees checked and subdued. 
The license of lust and the brutality of intemperance, 
marking a civilization inferior to our own, are at last 
driven from public display. Faithful Art reflects the 
character of the age. To its honor, libertinism and in- 
temperance no longer intrude their obscene faces into 
its pictures. The time is at hand when religion, hu- 
manity, and taste will concur in rejecting any image 
of human strife. Lais and Phryne have fled : Bacchus 
and Silenus are driven reeling from the scene. Mars 
will soon follow, howling, as with that wound from the 
Grecian spear before Troy. The Hall of Battles, at 
Versailles, where Louis Philippe, the inconsistent con- 
servator of peace, has arrayed, on acres of canvas, the 
bloody contests in the long history of France, will be 
shut by a generation appreciating tine greatness. 

In the mission of teaching to nations and to individ- 
uals wherein is tine greatness, Art has a noble office. 



THE ARTIST, 'nil'. PHILANTHROPIST. 283 

[f Hoi herald, she is a1 leasl handmaid of Truth. Her 
Lessons may not train the intellect, bul they cannol 
fail to touch the heart. Who ran measure the inlluence 
front an image of beauty, affection, and truth ) The 
Christus Consolator of Scheffer, without a word, wins 
tlir soul. Such a work awakens lasting homage to thi! 
artist, and to the spiril from which it proceeds, while it 
takes its place with things thai never die. Other works, 
springing from the lower passions, arc no better than 
gaudy, perishing flowers of earth ; bu1 here is peren- 
nial, amaranthine bloom. 

AUston loved excellence for its own sake. He looked 
down upon the common strife Pot worldly consideration. 
With impressive beauty of truth and expression, he 
said, " Fame is the eternal shadow of excellence, from 
which it can never be separated." ' Here is a vol- 
ume, prompting to noble thought and action, not for 
the sake of glory, but for advance in knowledge, vir- 
tue, excellence. Our Art i-t gives renewed utterance to 
that sentiment which is the highest grace in the life 
of the greal magistrate, Lord Mansfield, when, confess- 
in- the attractions of " popularity," he said it was that 
which followed, not which was followed after. 

As we contemplate the life and works of AUston, we 
arc inexpressibly grateful thai he lived. His example 
is one of our besl possessions. And yet, while rejoicing 
thai he has done much, we seem to hear a whisper that 
he mighl have done more. His productions suggest a 
higher genius than they display; and we are disposed 
sometimes to praise the master rather than the work. 
Like a beloved character in English literature, sir James 
Mackintosh, he Anally closed a career of beautiful, but 

1 Mr?. Jameson, Memoirs and Essays : Washington AUston, p. 118. 



284 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

fragmentary labors, leaving much undone which all had 
hoped he would do. The great painting which haunted 
so many years of his life, and which his friends 
and country awaited with anxious interest, remained 
unfinished at last. His Virgilian sensibility and mod- 
esty would doubtless have ordered its destruction, had 
death arrested him less suddenly. Titian died, leaving 
incomplete, like Allston, an important picture, on which 
his hand was busy down to the time of his death. A 
pious and distinguished pupil, the younger Palma, took 
up the labor of his master, and, on its completion, 
placed it in the church for which it was destined, with 
this inscription : " That which Titian left unfinished 
Palma reverently completed, and dedicated to God." 
Where is the Palma who can complete what our Titian 
has left unfinished ? 



Let us now devoutly approach the grave of the 
brother whom, in order of time, we were first called to 
mourn. "William Ellery Chanxing, the Philanthro- 
pist, died in the month of October, 1842, aged sixty- 
two. By an easy transition we pass from Allston to 
Charming. They were friends and connections. The 
monumental stone which marks the last resting-place 
of the Philanthropist was designed by the Artist. In 
physical organization they were not unlike, each pos- 
Bessing a fineness of fibre hardly belonging to the 
Anglo-Saxon stock. In both we observe similar sen- 
sibility, delicacy, refinement, and truth, with highest 
aims; and the color of Allston finds a parallel in the 
Venetian richness which marks the style of Chan- 
nine. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHTLAOTHBOPIST. 285 

I do not speak of him as Theologian, although his 
labors have earned this title also. It is probable thai 
no single mind, in our age, has exerted a greater in- 
fluence "N'T theological opinions. But I pass all this 
by, -without presuming to indicate its character. Far 
better dwell on those Labors which should noi fail to 
find favor in all churches, whether at Rome, Geneva, 
Canterbury, or Boston. 

\\\< influence is widely felt and acknowledged. His 
words have been heard and read by thousands, in all 
conditions of life, and in various lands, whose hearts 
now throb with gratitude towards the meek and elo- 
quent upholder of divine truth. An American travel- 
ler, at a small village nestling on a terrace of the 
Tvrolese Alps, encountered a German, who, hearing 
that his companion was from Boston, inquired earnestly 
after Channing, — saying that the difficulty of learning 
the English language was adequately repaid by the 
charm of his writings. A distinguished stranger, when 
aboul to visit our country, was told by a relative not 
Less Lovely in character than elevated in condition, that 
she envied him his journey "for the sake of Niagara 
and Channing." We have already observed that a 
critic of Art places him in an American triumvirate 
with All-ton and Washington. More frequently he is 
bed with Washington and Franklin. Unlike 
W ishington, he was oever general or president ; unlike 
Franklin, he never held high office. But it would be 
difficull to say that since them any American has 
exerted greater sway over his fellow-men. And yet, 
if it be asked what single measure he carried to a suc- 
cessful close, I could not answer. It is on character 
that he has wrought and is still producing incalculable 



286 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

change. So extensive is tins influence, that multitudes 
now feel it, although strangers to his spoken or even 
his written word. The whole country and age feel it. 

I have called him Philanthropist, lover of man, — the 
title of highest honor on earth. " I take goodness in 
this sense," says Lord Bacon, in his Essays, " the affect- 
ing of tin weal of men, which is that the Grecians call 

Philanthropia This of all virtues and dignities 

of the mind is the greatest, being the character of the 
Deity ; and without it man is a busy, mischievous, 
v retched thing, no better than a kind of vermin." Lord 
Bacon was right. Confessing the attractions of scholar- 
ship, awed by the majesty of the law, fascinated by the 
beauty of Art, the soul bends with involuntary rever- 
ence before the angelic nature that seeks the good of 
his fellow-man. Through him God speaks. On him 
has descended in especial measure the Divine Spirit. 
God is Love; and man, when most active in good 
works, most nearly resembles Him. In heaven, we are 
told, the first place or degree is given to the angels of 
love, who are termed Seraphim, — the second to the 
angels of light, who are termed Cherubim. 

Sorrowfully it must be confessed that the time has 
not come when even his exalted labors find equal ac- 
ceptance with all men. And now, as I undertake to 
speak of them in this presence, I seem to tread on half- 
buried cinders. I shall tread fearlessly, loyal ever, I 
hope, to the occasion, to my subject, and to myself. In 
the language of my own profession, I shall not travel 
out of tin- record ; but 1 must be true to the record. 
It is fit that his name should be commemorated here, 
lie was one of us. lie was a son of the University, 
enrolled also among its teachers, and for many years a 



i hi: aktist, thi: PHILANTHEOPIST. 287 

Fellow of the Corporation. To him, more, perhaps, 
than to any other person, is she indebted for her most 
distinctive opinions. Hi- fame is Lndissolubly con- 
nected wiili hers : — 

■• An. I when thy rains shall disclaim 
l o be tin- treasurer of his name, 

Hi- name, that cannot <li<'. -hall be 

An everlasting monument t" the'." l 

I have called him Philanthropist : he may also lie 
called Moralist, for he was the expounder of human 
duties ; hut his exposition of duties was a nut her service 
to humanity. His morality, elevated by Christian Love, 
fortified by Christian righteousness, was frankly ap- 
plied to thr people ami affairs of his own country and 
age He saw full well, that, in contest with wrong, 
more was needed than a declaration of simple prin- 
ciples. A general morality is too vague tor action. 
Tamerlane ami Napoleon both might join hi general 
praise of peace, and entitle themselves to be enrolled, 
with Alexander of Paissia, as members of a Peace So- 
ciety. Many satisfy the conscience by such generalities. 
This was not the case with our Philanthropist. He 
brought his morality to bear distinctly upon the world. 
Nor was he disturbed by another suggestion, which the 
moralisl often encounters, that his views were sound in 
theory, hut not practical He well knew that what is 
unsound in theory must be vicious in practice. Un- 
disturbed by hostile criticism, he did not hesitate to 
arraign the wrong he discerned, and fasten upon it 
the mark of Cain. His philanthropy was morality in 
action. 

As a moralist, he knew that the truest happiness 

1 Ben Jonson's inscription for the " pious marble " in honor of Drayton. 



288 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

is readied only by following the Eight ; and as a lover 
of man, he sought on all occasions to inculcate this 
supreme duty, which lie addressed to nations and indi- 
viduals alike. In this attempt to open the gates of a 
new civilization, he encountered prejudice and error. 
The principles of morality, first possessing the individ- 
ual, slowly pervade the body politic; and we are often 
told, in extenuation of war and conquest, that the nation 
and the individual are governed by separate laws, — 
that the nation may do what an individual may not do. 
In combating this pernicious fallacy, Channing was a 
benefactor. He helped to bring government within 
the Christian circle, and taught the statesman that 
there is one comprehensive rule, binding on the con- 
science in public affairs, as in private affairs. This truth 
cannot be too often proclaimed. Pulpit, press, school, 
college, all should render it familiar to the ear, and pom- 
it into the soul. Beneficent Nature joins with the mor- 
alist in declaring the universality of God's law ; the 
flowers lit' the held, the rays of the sun, the morning 
ami evening dews, the descending showers, the waves of 
the sea, the breezes that fan our cheeks and bear rich 
argosies tii mi shore to shore, the careering storm, all on 
this earth,- nay, more, the system of which this earth 
is a part, and the infinitude of the Universe, in which 
our system dwindles to ;i grain of sand, all declare one 
prevailing law, knowing no distinction of person, num- 
ber, mass, "i' extent. 

While Channing commended this truth, he fervently 
recognized the Rights of Man. He saw in our institu- 
tions, ;i> established in 177<>, the animating idea of Hu- 
man Rights, distinguishing us from other countries. It 
was this idea, which, first appearing at our nativity as a 



THE \i:ri>T. THE PHILANTHROPIST. 289 

nation, shone on the path of oui fathers, as the unac- 
customed star in the west which twinkled over Bethle- 
hem. 

Kindred to the idea of Human Rights was thai other, 
which appears so often in his writings as to inspire his 
whole philanthropy, the importance of the Individual 
Man. No human soul so ahjecl in condition as not 
i" find sympathy and reverence from him. He con- 
fessed brotherhood with all God's children, although 
separated from them by rivers, mountains, and seas,- — 
although a torrid sun had left upon them an unchange- 
able Ethiopian skin. Filled with this thought, he was 
untiring in effort to promote their elevation and happi- 
ness, lie yearned to do good, to he a spring of life and 
light to his fellow-men. "I see nothing worth living 
for," he said, "hut the divine virtue which endures and 
surrenders all things for truth, duty, and mankind." In 
this spirit, so long as he lived, he was the constant 
champion of Humanity. 

In the cause of education and of temperance he was 
earnest. He saw how essential to a \ pie govern- 
ing themselves was knowledge, — that without it the 
right of voting would he a dangerous privilege, and that 
with it the nation would he elevated with new means 
of happiness and power. His vivid imagination saw 
the blight of intemperance, and exposed it in glowing 
colors. In these efforts he was sustained by the kindly 
sympathy of those anion-- whom In- lived. 

There were two other causes in which, more than 
any other, his soul was enlisted, especially toward the 
• ■lose of lit',-, and with which his name will he in- 
separably as-nciutcd. I mean the efforts for the aho- 
lition of tho.se two terrible scourges, Slavery and War. 

VOL. I. 13 8 



290 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

All will sec that I cannot pass these by on this occa- 
sion; for not to speak of them would be to present a 
portrait in which the most distinctive features were 
wanting. 

And, first, as to Slavery. To this his attention was 
particularly drawn by early residence in Virginia, and a 
season subsequently in one of the West India Islands. 
His soul was moved by its injustice and inhumanity. 
He saw in it an infraction of God's great laws of Eight 
and Love, and of the Christian precept, " Whatsoever 
ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to 
them." Regarding it contrary to the law of Nature, the 
Philanthropist unconsciously adopted the conclusions of 
the Supreme Court of the United States, speaking by 
the mouth of Chief Justice Marshall, 1 and of the Su- 
preme Court of Massachusetts, at a later day, speaking 
by the mouth of Chief Justice Shaw. A solemn decis- 
ion, now belonging to the jurisprudence of this Com- 
monwealth, declares that "slavery is contrary to natu- 
ral right, to the principles of justice, humanity, and 
sound policy." 2 

With these convictions, his duty as Moralist and Phi- 
lanthropist did not admit of question. He saw before 
him a giant wrong. Almost alone he went forth to the 
contest. On his return from the West Indies, he first 
declared himself from the pulpit. At a later day, he 
published a book entitled "Slavery," the most consider- 
able treatise from his pen. His object, as he testifies, 
was "to oppose slavery on principles which, if ad- 
mitted, would inspire resistance to all the wrongs and 
reverence for all the rights of human nature." 3 Other 

i The Antelope, 1" Wheaton's Rep. 211. 
- Commonwealth v. A.ves, 18 Tick. 211. 
■"■ Letter to Blanc* White, July 29, 1836: Life of White, Vol. II. p. 251. 



THE AKTIST, THE HIM. AN HIia>i 291 

publications followed down 1<> the close of his lite, 
among which was a prophetic Letter, addressed to 
Eenry Clay, against the annexation of Texas, od the 
ground thai it would entail war with Mexico and the 
extension of slavery. It is interesting to know that 
this letter, before its publication, was read to his class- 
mate Story, who Listened to it with admiration and 
assent; so that the Jurist and the Philanthropisl joined 
in this cause. 

In his defence of African liberty he invoked always 
th'e unanswerable considerations of justice and human- 
ity. The argumenl of economy, deemed by some to 
contain all that is pertinent, never presented itself to 
him. The question of profit and loss was absorbed in 
the question of right and wrong. His maxim was, — 
Anything but slavery; poverty sooner than -lavery. 
But while exhibiting this institution in blackest colors, 
as inhuman, unjust, unchristian, unworthy of an en- 
lightened age and of a republic professing freedom, his 
gentle nature found no word of harshness for those 
whom birth, education, and custom bred to its support 
Implacable towards wrong, he used mild words to- 
wards wrong-doers. He looked forward to the day when 
they too, encompassed by a moral blockade, invisible to 
the eye, but more potent than navies, and under the 
influence of increasing Light, diffused from all the na- 
tions, must acknowledge the wrung, and set the captive 
free. 

He urged the duty — such was his unequivocal 
language — incumbent on the Northern States to free 
themselves from all support of slavery. To this con- 
clusion he was driven irresistibly by the ethical princi- 
ple, that what is wrong for tlic individual is wrong for 



292 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

the state. No son of the Pilgrims can hold a fellow- 
man in bondage. Conscience forbids. No son of the 
Pilgrims can, through Government, hold a fellow- 
man in bondage. Conscience equally forbids. Wo 
have among ns to-day a brother who, reducing to prac- 
tice the teachings of Channing and the suggestions of 
his own soul, has liberated the slaves which fell to 
him by inheritance. Our homage to this act attests 
the obligation upon ourselves. In asking the Free 
States to disconnect themselves from all support of 
slavery, Channing called them to do as States what 
Palfrey has done as man. At the same time he 
dwelt with affectionate care upon the Union. He 
sought to reform, not to destroy, — to eradicate, not to 
overturn ; and he cherished the Union as mother of 
peace, plenteousness, and joy. 

Such were some of his labors for liberty. The mind 
instinctively recalls the parallel exertions of John Mil- 
ton. He, too, was a defender of liberty. His "Defence 
of the People of England" drew to him, living, a larger 
fame than his sublime epic. But Channing's labors 
were of a higher order, mure instinct with Christian 
sentiment, more truly worthy of renown. Milton's 
Defensio pro /'<>/in/t> Anglicano was for the political 
freedom of the English people, supposed at that time 
to number four and a half millions. It was writ- 
ten after the "bawble" of royalty had been removed, 
ami in the confidence that the good cause was tri- 
umphantly established, beneath the protecting genius 
of Cromwell. Channing's Defensio pro Populo Afri- 
cans was for the personal freedom of three million 
fellow-men in abject bondage, none of whom knew 
that his eloquent pen was pleading their cause. The 



THE AJRTIST, INK PHILANTHBOPIST. 293 

efforts of Milton produced his blindness; those of 
Channing exposed him to obloquy and calumny. Eow 
justly might the Philanthropist bave borrowed the 
exalted words of the Sonnel to Cyriac Skinner! — 

'• What supports me, dosl thou ask ? 
The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied 
In liberty's dt /'< nc«, mi/ noble tntk. 
Of which nil Europe rings from si<l< to side." 

The same spirit of justice and humanity animating 
him in defence of liberty inspired his exertions for 
the abolition of the barbarous custom or Institution 
of War. When I call war an institution, I mean inter- 
national war. sanctioned, explained, and defined by the 
Law of Nations, as a mode of determining questions 
of right. I mean war, the arbiter and umpire, the 
Ordeal by Battle, deliberately continued in an age of 
civilization, as the means of justice between nations. 
Slavery is an institution sustained by municipal law. 
War is an institution sustained by the Law of Xations. 
Both are relics of the early ages, and are rooted in 
violence and wrong. 

The principle, already considered, that nations and 
individuals are bound by one and the same rule, applies 
here with unmistakable force. The Trial by Battle, to 
which individuals once appealed for justice, is branded 
by our civilization as monstrous and impious; nor can 
we recognize honor in the successful combatant. < !hris- 
tianity turns from these scenes, as abhorrent to her best 
injunctions. And is it right in nations to prolong a 
usage, monstrous and impious in individuals! There 
can be but one answer. 

This definition Leaves undisturbed thai question of 
christian ethics, whether the right of self-defence is 



294 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

consistent with the example and teaching of Christ. 
Charming thought it was. It is sufficient that war, 
when regarded as a judicial combat, sanctioned by the 
Law of Nations as an institution to determine justice, 
raises no such question, involves no such right. When, 
in our age, two nations, parties to existing interna- 
tional law, alter mutual preparations, continued perhaps 
through years, appeal to war and invoke the God of 
Battles, they voluntarily adopt this unchristian umpir- 
age; nor can either side plead that overruling necessity 
on which alone the right of self-defence is founded. 
They are governed at every step by the Laws of War. 
But self-defence is independent of law ; it knows no 
law, but springs from sudden tempestuous urgency, 
which brooks neither circumscription nor delay. De- 
fine it, give it laws, circumscribe it by a code, invest 
it with form, refine it by punctilio, and it becomes 
the Duel. And modern war, with its definitions, laws, 
limitations, forms, and refinements, is the Duel of 
Natioi is. 

These nations are communities of Christian brothers. 
War is, therefore, a duel between brothers; and here its 
impiety finds apt illustration in the past, Far away 
in the early period of time, where uncertain hues of 
Poetry blend with the clearer light of History, our eyes 
discern the fatal contest between those two brothers, 
Eteocles and Polynices. No scene stirs deeper aver- 
sion ; we do not inquire which was right. The sou] 
cries out, in bitterness and sorrow, Both were wrong, 
and refuses to discriminate between them. A just 
and enlightened opinion, contemplating the lends and 
wars of mankind, will condemn both sides as wrong, 
pronouncing all war fratricidal, and every battle-field 



Till: AJtTIST, THE PHILANTHBOPIST. 295 

ene from which to avert the countenance, as from 
thai dismal duel beneatb the walls of Grecian Thebes. 

To hasten this judgmenl our Philanthropist labored. 
"Follow my white plume," said the chivalrous mon- 
arch of Prance. "Followthe Right," more resplendent 
than plume or oriflamme, was the watchword of Chan- 
ning. With a soul kindling intensely at every story of 
magnanimous virtue, al every deed of self-sacrifice in a 
righteous cause, his clear Christian judgment saw the 
mockery of what is called military glory, whether in 
ancient thunderbolts of war 01 in the career of mod- 
ern conquest Be saw that the fairest flowers can- 
not bloom in soil moistened by human Mood, — that to 
overcome evil by bullets and bayonets is less great and 
glorious than to overcome it by good, — that the cour- 
age of the camp is interior to this Christian fortitude 
found in patience, resignation, and forgiveness of evil, 
as the spirit which scourged and crucified the Saviour 
was less divine than that which murmured, "Father, 
forgive them, for they know not what they do." 

With fearless pen he arraigned that giant criminal, 
Napoleon Bonaparte. Witnesses Hocked from all his 
Bcenes of Mood; and the pyramids of Egypt, the coast 
of Palestine, the plains of Italy, the snows of Russia, 
the fields of Austria, Prussia, Spain, all Europe, sent 
forth uncoffined hosts to hear testimony againsl the glory 
of their chief. Never before, in the name of humanity 
and freedom, was -rand offender arraigned by such a 
voice. The sentence of degradation which Ghanning 
ha- passed, continued by coming generations, will darken 
the name of the warrior more than any defeat of his 
arms or compelled abdication of his power. 

These causes Channing upheld and commended with 



296 THE SCHOLAE, THE JURIST, 

admirable eloquence, both of tongue and pen. Though 
abounding in beauty of thought and expression, he will 
be judged less by single passages, sentences, or phrases, 
than by the continuous and harmonious treatment of his 
subject. And yet everywhere the same spirit is dis- 
cerned. What he said was an effluence rather than 
a composition. His style was not formal or archi- 
tectural in shape or proportion, hut natural and flow- 
ing. Others seem to construct, to build; he bears us 
forward on an unbroken stream. If we seek a paral- 
lel for him as writer, we must turn our backs upon 
England, and repair to France. Meditating on the 
glowing thought of Pascal, the persuasive sweetness of 
Fenelon, the constant and comprehensive benevolence 
of the Abbe Saint Pierre, we may be reminded of Chan- 
ning. 

With few of the physical attributes belonging to 
the orator, he was an orator of surpassing grace. His 
soul tabernacled in a body that was little more than 
a filament of clay. He was small in stature ; but when 
he spoke, his person seemed to dilate with the majesty 
of his thoughts, — as the Hercules of Lysippus, a marvel 
of ancient art, though not more than a foot in height, 
revived in the mind the superhuman strength which 
overcame the Nemean lion: — 

" Pons ille, Deus; seseque videndum 
Indulsit, Lysippe, tibi, parvusque videri 
Sentirique ingens" * 

His voice was soft and musical, not loud or full in 
tone; and yet, like conscience, it made itself heard in 
the inmost chambers of the soul. His eloquence was 
gentleness and persuasion, reasoning for religion, hu- 

* Statius, Silv., Lib. IV. Caxm. C. 



Till-: AIITIST, Till'. PHILANTHROPIST. 297 

maudy, ami justice. He did not thunder or lighten. 
The rude elemental forces furnish do proper image of 
his power. Like sunshine, his vrords descended upon 
the souls of his hearers, and under theii genial influ- 
ence the hard in heart were softened, while the closely 
hugged mantle of prejudice and error dropped to the 

earth. 

His eloquence had not the character and fashion of 
forensic effort or parliamentary debate. It mounted 
above these, into an atmosphere unattempted by the 

applauded orators <>t' the world. Whenever he spoke 
or wrote, it was with loftiest purpose, as bis works at- 
— not for public display, do1 to advance himself, 
not on any question of pecuniary interest, not under 
any worldly temptation, bul to promote the love of ( rod 
and man. Here are untried founts of truest inspiration. 
Klo ( pience has heen called action ; but it is something 
more. It is that di\ ine and ceaseless energy which saves 
and helps mankind. It cannot assume its highest form 
in personal pursuit of dishonest guardians, or selfish 
contention for a crown, — not in defence of a murderer, 
or invective hurled at a conspirator. 1 would not over- 
step the proper modesty of this discussion, nor would I 
disparage the genius of the greal masters; but all must 
join in admitting that no rhetorical skill or oratorical 
power can elevate these lower, earthly things to the nat- 
ural heights on which Channing stood, when he pleaded 
for freed. mi and I'eace. 

Such was our Philanthropist. Advancing in life, his 
enthusiasm seemed to brighten, his soul put forth fresh 
blossoms of hope, bis mind opened to new truths. Age 
brings experience; but, except in a few constitutions of 
rare felicity, it lenders the mind indifferent to what is 
13* 



298 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

new, particularly in moral truth. His last months were 
passed amid t lie heights of Berkshire, with a people to 
whom may be applied what Bentivoglio said of Switzer- 
land, — " Their mountains hecome them, and they be- 
come their mountains." To them, on the 1st of August, 
1S42, lie volunteered an Anniversary Address, in com- 
memoration of that great English victory, — the peace- 
ful emancipation of eight hundred thousand slaves. 
These were the last public words from his lips. His 
final benediction descended on the slave. His spirit, 
taking flight, seemed to say, — nay, still says, Bemem- 
ber the Slave. 



Thus have I attempted, humbly and affectionately, to 
bring before you the images of our departed brothers, 
while 1 dwelt on the great causes in which their lives 
were revealed. Servants of Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, 
Love, they have ascended to the great Source of Knowl- 
edge, Justice, Beauty, Love. Though dead, they yet 
speak, informing the understanding, strengthening the 
sense of justice, refining the tastes, enlarging the sym- 
pathies. The body dies ; but the page of the Scholar, 
the interpretation of the Jurist, the creation of the Art- 
ist, the beneficence of the Philanthropist cannot die. 

1 have dwelt upon their lives and characters, less in 
grief for what we have lost than in gratitude for what 
we possessed so long, and still retain, in their precious 
example. Proudly recollecting her departed children, 
Alma Mater may well exclaim, in those touching 
words of parental grief, that she would not give her 
dead sons for .any living sons in Christendom. Picker- 
ing, Story, Allston, Channing ! A grand Quaternion! 



THE ABTIST, Till'. I'llll.AN PHBOPIST. 299 

Each, in his peculiar sphere, was foremost in his coun- 
try. Each might have said,what the modesty of De- 
mosthenes did nol forbid him to boast, that, through 
him, his country had been crowned abroad. Their 
Labors were wide as Scholarship, Jurisprudence, Ait, 
Eumanity, and have found acceptance wherever these 
are recognized. 

Their lives, which overflow with instruction, teach 
one persuasive lesson to all alike <>f every calling and 
pursuit,— not to live/or ourselves alone. They lived for 
Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, Love. Turning from the 
strifes of the world, the allurements of office, and the 
rage for gain, they consecrated themselves to the pur- 
suit of excellence, and each, in his own sphere, to be- 
neficent labor. They were all philanthropists ; for the 
labors of all were directed to the welfare and happiness 
of man. 

In their presence, how truly do we feel the insignifi- 
cance of office and wealth, which men so hotly pursue! 
What is office? and what is wealth? Expressions 
and representatives of what is present and fleeting 
only, investing the possessor with a brief and local re- 
gard. Let this not he exaggerated ; it must not be con- 
founded with the serene tame which is the reflection of 
generous labors in -real eauses. The streetlights, within 
the circle of their nightly glimmer, seem to outshine the 
distant stars, observed of men in all lands and times; 
but gas-lamps are not to be mi-taken for celestial lumi- 
naries. They who live for wealth, and the things of 
this world, follow shadows, neglecting realities eter- 
nal on earth and in heaven. After the perturbations 
of life, all its accumulated possessions must be resigned, 
except those only which have been devoted to God and 



300 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

mankind. What we do for ourselves perishes with this 
mortal dust ; what we do for otJiers lives coeval with 
the benefaction. Worms may destroy the body, but 
they will not consume such a fame. 

Struggles of the selfish crowd, clamors of a false pa- 
triotism, suggesl ions of a sordid ambition, cannot obscure 
that commanding duty which enjoins perpetual labor 
for the welfare of the whole human family, with- 
out distinction of country, color, or race. In this 
work, Knowledge, Jurisprudence, Art, Humanity, all 
arc blessed ministers. More puissant than the sword, 
they will lead mankind from the bondage of error into 
that service which alone is freedom:- — ■ 

" lire tibi erunt artes, pacisque imponere morem." * 

The brothers we commemorate join in summons 
to this gladsome obedience. Their examples have 
voice. Go forth into the many mansions of the house 
of life. Scholar! store them with learning. Jurist! 
strengthen them with justice. Artist! adorn them 
witli beauty. Philanthropist ! iill them with love. Be 
servants of truth, each in his vocation, — sincere, pure, 
earnest, enthusiastic. A virtuous enthusiasm is self- 
forgetful and noble. It is the grand inspiration yet 
vouchsafed to man. Like Pickering, blend humility 
with learning. Like Story, ascend above the present, 
in place and time. Like Allston, regard fame only as 
the eternal shadow of excellence. Like Channing, plead 
for the good of man. Cultivate alike the wisdom of 
experience and the wisdom of hope. Mindful of the 

l JEneid, VL 852. — Dryden, translating this passage, gives distinctness 
to a duty beyond the language <<( Virgil : — 

" The fettered slave to free, 
I bese arc imperial arts, and worthy thee." 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 301 

future, do nut neglect the past ; awed by the majesty 
of antiquity, turn not with indifference from the new. 
True wisdom Looka to the ages before, as well as behind. 
Like the Janus of the Capitol, one front regards the 
past, rich with experience, with memories, with price- 
less traditions of virtue; the other is directed to the 
All Hail Hereafter, rid in- still with transcendent hopes 
and unfulfilled prophecies. 

We stand on the threshold of a new age, which is 
preparing to recognize new influences. The ancient 
divinities of Violence and Wrong are retreating before 
the light of a better day. The sun is entering a new 
ecliptic, no longer deformed by those images of animal 
rage, Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Sagittarius, but beaming 
with the mild radiance of those heavenly signs, Faith, 
Hope, and ( lharity. 

" There 's a fount about to stream, 
There 's a light about to beam, 
There 's a warmth about to glow, 
There *s a flower about to blow, 
There 's a midnight blackness changing 

Into gray: 
Men of thought, ami men of action, 
Clear the way! 

" Aid the dawning, tongue and pen! 
Aid it, hopes of honest men ! 
Aid it, paper! aid it, type ! 
Aid it. for tb'' hour is ripe, 
And our earnest must not >lacken 

Into play : 
Men of thought, and men of action, 

Char the way .' " 

The age of Chivalry is gone. An age of Humanity 
has come. The Horse, whose importance, more than hu- 
man, gave its name to that early period of gallantry and 
war, now yields the foremost place to Man. In seising 



302 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, ETC. 

him, in studying his elevation, in helping his welfare, 
in doing him good, are fields of bloodless triumph, 
nobler far than any in which Bayard or Du Guesclin 
conquered. Here are spaces of labor, wide as the world, 
lofty as heaven. Let me say, then, in the benison once 
bestowed upon the youthful knight, — Scholar! Jurist! 
Artist .' Philanthropist! hero of a Christian age, com- 
panion of a celestial knighthood, "Go forth, be brave, 
loyal, and successful ! " 

And may it be our office to light a fresh beacon-fire 
on the venerable walls of Harvard, sacred to Truth, to 
Christ, and to the Church, 1 — to Truth Immortal, to 
I Inist the Comforter, to the Holy Church Universal. 
Let the flame pass from steeple to steeple, from hill to 
hill, from island to island, from continent to continent, 
till the long lineage of fires illumine all the nations 
of the earth, animating them to the holy contests of 
Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, Lot i: ! 

1 The legend on the early seal of Harvard University was Veritas. The 
present legend is C/uisto el Ecchsiae. 



ANTISLAVKUY DUTIES OF THE WHIG 
PARTY. 

SrEEcn at Tin- Whig Stats Contention of Massachusetts, in 
ml Eaia, Boston, Septembeb 23, L846. 



Tin. Convention was organized by the appointment of Hon. Charles 

Hudson, of Westminster, President, — Nathan Appleton, of Boston, 

hen C. Phillips, of Salem, Amos Abbott, of Andover, Samnel Boar, 

of Concord, Thomas Kinnicutt, of Worcester, Isaac Bang, of Palmer, 

E. K. Coit, of Pittefield, A. Richards, of Dedham, Artemas Hale, of 
Bridgewater, and Aaron Mitchell, of Nantucket, Vice-Presidents, — and 

F. W. Lincoln, Jr., of Boston, William S. Robinson, of Lowell, Gcorgo 
Mar-ton, of Barnstable, and E. G. Bowdoin, of South Iladlcy, Secre- 
tari<-. 

After the appointment of a committee to report resolutions, and its 
withdrawal fortius purpose, there was a call for Mr. Sumner, who came 
forward and spoke. This incident was described by the Daily Advertiser, 
in it> account <>f the proceedings, as follows. 

" Alter this committee had gone out, Charles Sumner, Esq., of this 
city, in response to a general call, took the stand and made a very elo- 
quent speech, which was received with sympathy and repeated bursts 

of applanse An allusion which he made to Daniel Webster in 

terms of the highest admiration, and an appeal to him to add to his 
title of Defender of the Constitution that of Defender of Freedom [Human- 
ity], was received with great applause." 

Mr. Winthrop, at the call of the Convention, spoke immediately after 
Mr. Sumner. 

As Mr. Sumner stepped from the platform, Mr. Appleton, one of the 
Vice-Presidents, said to him, " A good Bpeech for Virginia, bntout of 
place here" ; to which Mr. Sumner replied, " If <:ood for Virginia, it is 
good for Boston, as we have our responsibilities for Slavery." This inci- 
dent is mentioned as opening briefly the practical issue made by many 
with regard to the discussion of Slavery at the North. 



304 ANTISLAVEItY DUTIES 

Mn. President and Fellow-Citizens, Whigs of Massa- 
chusetts : — 

GRATEFUL for the honor clone me in this early call 
to address the Convention, I shall endeavor to speak 
with sincerity and frankness on the duties of the Whig 
party. It is of Duties that I shall speak. 

On the first notice that our meeting was to be in Bos- 
ton, many were disposed to regret that the country 
was not selected instead, believing that the opinions of 
the country, free as its bracing air, more than those of 
Boston, were in harmony with the tone becoming us at 
the present crisis. In the country is the spirit of freedom, 
in the city the spirit of commerce ; and though these two 
spirits may at times act in admirable conjunction and 
with irresistible strength, yet it sometimes occurs that the 
generous and unselfish impulses of the one are checked 
and controlled by the careful calculations of the other. 
Even Right and Liberty are, in some minds, of less sig- 
nificance than dividends and dollars. 

But I am happy that the Convention is convoked in 
Faneuil Hall, — a place vocal with inspiring accents; 
ami though on other occasions words have been uttered 
here which the lover of morals, of freedom, and humanity 
must regret, these walls, faithful only to Freedom, refuse 
to echo them. Whigs of Massachusetts, in Faneuil Hall 
assembled, must be true to this early scene of patriot 
struggles ; they must be true to their own name, which 
has descended from the brave men who took part in those 
struggles. 

We are a Convention of Y\ 'higs. And who arc the 
Whigs ? Some may say they are supporters of the Tariff; 
others, that they are advocates of Internal Improvements, 



of Tin; wnii; tarty. 

of measures to restrict tin- Veto Power, or it may 1'" 
of a Bank. All these are uow, or have been, prominent 
articles of the party. Bu1 tins enumeration doesnol do 
justice i" the Whig character. 

The Whigs, as their name imports, arc, ot oughl to be, 
the party of Freedom. They seek, or should seek, on all 
occasions, to cany oul fully ami pracl ically the principles 
of our institutions. Those principles which our fathers 
declared, ami scaled \\ ith their blood, their Whig children 
should seek to manifest in acts. The Whigs, therefore, 
reverence the Declaration of Independence, as embody- 
ing the vital truths of Freedom, especially thai -real 
truth, "thai all men are created equal." They rever- 
ence the Constitution of the United States, and seek 
to guard it against infractions, believing thai undeT the 
( lonstitution Freedom can he Lest preserved. They rev- 
erence the Union, believing that the peace, happiness, 
and welfare of all depend upon this blessed bond. They 
reverence the public faith, and require that it shall be 
punctiliously kept in all laws, charters, and obligations. 
They reverence the principles of morality, truth, justice, 
right. They seek to advance their country rather than 
individuals, and to promote the welfare of the people 
rather than of leaders. A member of such an association, 
founded on the highest moral sentiments, recognizing 
conscience and benevolence as animating ideas, is not 
open to the accusation that he "to party gave up what 
was meant for mankind," — since all the interests of t he 
party musl be coincident and commensurate with the 
manifold interests of humanity. 

Such is, a- I trust, the Whig party of Massachusetts. 
It refuses to identify itself exclusively with those meas- 
ures of transient policy which, like the Bank, may be- 



306 ANTISLAVKKV DUTIES 

coine " obsolete ideas," but connects itself with ever- 
lasting principles which can never fade or decay. 
Doing this, it does not neglect other things, as the Tariff, 
or Internal [improvements ; hat it treats them as subor- 
dinate, far less does it show indifference to the Con- 
st it nt i<m or the Union; for it seeks to render these 
guardians and representatives of the principles to which 
we are attached. 

The Whigs have been called by you, Mr. President, 
conservatives. In a just sense, they should be conserva- 
tives, — not of forms only, but of substance, — not of 
the letter only, but of the living spirit. The "Whigs 
should be conservators of the ancestral spirit, conser- 
vators of the animating ideas in which our institutions 
were born. They should profess that truest and highest 
conservatism which watches, guards, and preserves the 
great principles of Truth, Right, Freedom, and Human- 
ity. Such a conservatism is not narrow and exclusive, 
but broad and expansive. It is not trivial and bigoted, 
but manly and generous. It is the conservatism of '76. 

Let me say, then, that the Whigs of Massachusetts are 
— 1 hope it is not my wish only that is father to the 
thought — the party which seeks the establishment of 
Truth, Freedom, Eight, and Humanity, under the Con- 
stitution of the United States, and by the Union of the 
Stales. They are Unionists, Constitutionalists, Friends 
of the Right. 

The question here arises, Hew shall this party, in- 
spired by these principles, now acl '. The answer is easy. 
In stricl accordance with their principles. It must utter 
them with distinctness, and act apon them with energy. 

The party will naturally express opposition to the 
present Administration for its treacherous course on 



OF THE Wlll<; PAETT. 307 

the tariff, and for its interference by veto with inter- 
nal improvements; but it will be more alive to evils 
of greater magnitude, the unjust and unchristian war 
with Mexico, which is nol lesa absurd than wicked, and, 
beyond this, the institution of Slavery. 

The time, 1 believe, has gone by, when the question 
is asked, What has the North to do with Slavery $ It 
might almost be answovd, that, politically, it has lit- 
tle to do with anything else, — so are all the acts of our 
Government connected, directly or indirectly, with this 
institution Slavery ia everywhere. Appealing to the 
Constitution, it enters the Halls of Congress, in the dis- 
proportionate representation of the Slave States. It 
holds its disgusting marl at Washington, in the shadow 
of the Capitol, under the legislative jurisdiction of the 
Nation, — of the North as well as the South. It sends 
its miserable victims over the high seas, from the ports 
of Virginia to the ports of Louisiana, beneath the pro- 
tecting flag of the Republic. It presumes to follow into 
the Free States those fugitives who, filled with the in- 
spiration of Freedom, seek our altars for safety; nay, 
more, with profane hands it seizes those who have 
never known the name of slave, freemen of the North, 
and dooms them to irremediable bondage. Tt insults 
and expels from its jurisdiction honored representatives 
of Massachusetts, seeking to secure for her colored citi- 
zens the peaceful safeguard of the Union. It assumes 
at pleasure to build up new- slaveholding States, striv- 
ing perpetually to widen its area, while professing to 
extend the area of Freedom It has brought upon the 
country war with "Mexico, with its enormous expen- 
ditures and more enormous guilt By the spirit of 
union among its supporters, it controls the affairs of 



308 ANTISLAVERY DUTIES 

Government, — interferes with the cherished interests 
of the North, enforcing and then refusing protection to 
her manufactures, — makes and unmakes Presidents, — 
usurps to itself the larger portion of all offices of honor 
ami profit, both in the army and navy, and also in the 
civil department, — and stamps upon our whole country 
the character, before the world, of that monstrous anom- 
aly and mockery, a slavcholcling republic, with the liv- 
ing truths of Freedom on its lips and the dark mark of 
Slavery on its brow. 

In opposition to Slavery, Massachusetts has already, 
to a certain extent, done what becomes her character as 
a free Commonwealth. By successive resolutions of her 
Legislature, she has called for the abolition of slavery 
in the District of Columbia, and for the abolition of the 
slave-trade between the States ; and she has also pro- 
posed an amendment of the Constitution, putting the 
South upon an equality with the North in Congressional 
representation. More than this, her judiciary, always 
pure, fearless, and upright, has inflicted upon Slavery 
the brand of reprobation. I but recall a familiar fart. 
when I refer to the opinion of the Supreme Court of 
Massachusetts, where it is expressly declared that "sla- 
very is contrary to natural right, to the principles of 
justice, humanity, and sound policy." l This is the law 
of Massachusetts. 

And shall this Commonwealth continue in anyway 
to sustain an institution which its laws declare to be 
contrary to natural right, justice, humanity, and sound 
policy? Shall Whigs support what is contrary to the 
fundamental principles of the party? Here the con- 
srirnri's of good HH'ii respond to the judgment of the 

l 18 Pick. Rep. 215. 



OF THE WHIG PAETY. 309 

Court. If it be wrong to hold a single slave, it musl be 
wrong to hold many, [f it be wrong for an individual 
tn hold a slave, it must be wrong for a state. If it 
be wrong for a State in its individual capacity, it must 
be wrong also in association with ether States. Massa- 
chusetts does not allow any of her citi/ens within her 
borders to hold slaves. Lei her be consistent, and call 
for the abolition of slavery wherever she is any way 
responsible for it, no1 only where she is a party to it, 
but wherever it may lie reached by her influence, — that 
is, everywhere beneath the Constitution and laws of the 
National Government. " If any practices exist," said Mr. 
Webster,in one of those earlier efforts which commended 
him to our admiration, his Discourse at Plymouth in L820, 
— "if any practices exist contrary to the principles of 
justice and humanity, within the reach of our laws or 
our influence, we are inexcusable, if we do not exert our- 
selves to restrain and abolish them." 1 This is correct, 
worthy <A' its author, and of ^Massachusetts. It points 
directly to Massachusetts as inexcusable for not doing 
her best to restrain and abolish slavery everywhere 
within the reach of her laws or her influence. 

Certainly, to labor in this cause is far higher and 
nobler than to strive for repeal of the Tariff, once the 
tocsin to rally the Whigs. Repeal of Slavery under 
the Constitution and Laws of the National Gov- 
ernment is a watchword more Christian and more po- 
tent, because it embodies a higher sentiment and a more 
commanding duty. 

The time has passed when this can be opposed on 
constitutional grounds. It will not be questioned by 
any competent authority, that Congress may, by express 

l Works, Vol. I. p. 45. 



310 ANTISLAVERY DUTIES 

legislation, abolish slavery : first, in the District of Co- 
lumbia ; secondly, in the Territories, if there should he 
any ; thirdly, that it may abolish the slave-trade on the 
high seas between the States; fourthly, that it may re- 
fuse to admit new States with a constitution sanction- 
ing slavery. Nor can it be questioned that the people 
of the United States may, in the manner pointed out by 
the ( lonstitution, proceed to its amendment. It is, then, 
by constitutional legislation, and even by amendment 
of the Constitution, that slavery may be reached. 

Here the question arises, Is there any compromise in 
the Constitution of such a character as to prevent ac- 
tion ? This word is invoked by many honest minds as 
the excuse for not joining in this cause. Let me meet 
this question frankly and fairly. The Constitution, it 
is said, was the result of compromise between the Free 
States and the Slave States, which good faith will not 
allow us to break. To this it may be replied, that the 
Slave States, by their many violations of the Constitu- 
tion, have already overturned all the original compro- 
mises, if any there were of perpetual character. But 
I do not content myself with this answer. I Avish to 
say, distinctly, that there is no compromise on slavery 
not to be reached legally and constitutionally, which is 
the only way in which I propose to reach it. Wher- 
ever powers and jurisdiction are secured to Congress, 
they may unquestionably be exercised in conformity 
with the ('institution; even in matters beyond existing 
powers and jurisdiction there is a constitutional method 
of action. The Constitution contains an article point- 
ing out how, at any time, amendments may be made. 
This is an important element, giving to the Constitution 
a progressive character, and allowing it to be moulded 



"1 THE WHIG TARTY. 31 1 

according to new exigencies and conditions of Peeling. 
The wise framers of this instrumeni did not treat the 
country as a Chinese foot, — never to grow alter its in- 
fancy, — but anticipated the changes incident to its 
advance. "Provided, that no amendment which may 
be made prior to the year one thousand eight hundred 
and eighl shall in any manner affect the first and fourth 
clauses in the ninth section of the first article, and that 
no State, without its consent, shall lie deprived of its 
equal suffrage in the Senate." These are the words of 
the Constitution. They expressly designate what shall 
he sacred from amendment, — what compromise shall 
be perpetual, — and so doing, according to a familiar 
rule of law and of logic, virtually declare that the re- 
mainder of the Constitution may be amended. Already, 
since its adoption, twelve amendments have been made, 
and every year produces new projects. There has been 
a pressure on the floor of Congress to abrogate the veto, 
and also to limit the tenure of the Presidential office. 
1. • it lie distinctly understood, then, — and this is my 
answer to the pretension of binding compromise, — that, 
in conferring upon Congress certain specified powers and 
jurisdiction, and also in providing for the amendment 
of the Constitution, its framers expressly established 
the mean- for Betting aside what are vaguely called 
Compromises of the Constitution. They openly de- 
clare. ■• Legislate as you please, in conformity with the 
Constitution; and even make amendments rendered 
proper by change of opinion or circumstances, fol- 
lowing always the manner prescribed." 

Nor can we dishonor the revered authors of the 
Constitution by supposing that they se1 their hands to 
it, believing thai under it slavery was to be perpetual, 



312 AOTISLAVEEY DUTIES 

— that the Republic, which they had reared to its 
giant stature, snatched from heaven the sacred fire of 
Freedom, only to he hound, like another Prometheus, in 
adamantine chains of Fate, while Slavery, like another 
vulture, preyed upon its vitals. Let Franklin speak for 
them. He was President of the earliest Abolition 
Society in the United States, and in 1790, only two 
years after the adoption of the Constitution, addressed 
a petition to Congress, calling upon them to " step to 
the very verge of the power vested in them for discour- 
aging every species of traffic in the persons of our fel- 
low-men." 1 Let Jefferson speak for them. His desire 
for the abolition of slavery was often expressed with 
philanthropic warmth and emphasis, and is too familiar 
to be quoted. Let Washington speak for them. " It is 
among my first wishes," he said, in a letter to John F. 
Mercer, " to see some plan adopted by which slavery in 
this country maybe abolished by law." 2 And in his will, 
penned with his own hand, during the last year of his 
life, he bore his testimony again, by providing for the 
emancipation of all his slaves. It is thus that Washing- 
ton speaks, not only by words, but by actions more sig- 
nificant : " Give freedom to your slaves." The Father of 
his Country requires, as a token of the filial piety which 
all profess, that his example shall be followed. I am 
not insensible to the many glories of his character; but 
I cannol contemplate this act without a fresh feeling of 
admiration and gratitude. The martial scene depicted on 
thai votive canvas may fade from the memory of men; 
but this act of justice and benevolence can never perish. 

" Ergo postque magisque viri nunc gloria claret." 

i Anna] of Co r.---. First Congress, Second Session, col. 1198. 
'- Sparks'e Writings of Washington, VoL IX. p. 159, note. 



OF THE WHIG TARTY. 313 

1 assume, then, thai it is the duty of Whigs profess- 
ing the principles of the fathers to express themselves 
openly, distinctly, and solemnly against slavery, — not 
only against its furtJier extension, but against its longer 
continuance under the Constitution and Laws of the Union. 
Bui while it is their duty to enter upon this holy war- 
fare, it slum], I be their aim to temper it with moderation, 
with gentleness, with tenderness, towards slave-owners. 
These should lie won, if possible, rather than driven, to 
the duties of emancipation. Bui emancipation should 
always lie presented as the cardinal object of our national 
policy. 

It is for the Whigs of Massachusetts now to say 
whether the republican edifice shall indeed be one 
where all the Christian virtues will he fellow-workers 
with them. The resolutions which they adopt, the 
platform of principles which they establish, must be the 
imperishable foundation of a true glory. 

But it will not he sufficient to pass resolutions oppos- 
ing slavery ; we must choose men who will devote them- 
selves earnestly, heartily, to the work, — who will enter 
upon it with awakened conscience, and with that valiant 
faith before which all obstacles disappear, — who will 
be ever loyal to Truth. Freedom, I'i^ht, Humanity, — 
who will not look for rules of conduct down to earth, in 
the mire of expediency, but with heaven-directed coun- 
tenance seek those great "primal duties " which " shine 
aloft like stars," to illumine alike the path of individu- 
als and of nations. They must he true to the princi- 
ples of Massachusetts. They must not be Northern 
men with Southern principles, nor Northern men under 
Southern influences. They must he courageous and 
willing on all occasions to stand alone, provided li: 

VOL. I. 14 



314 AXTISLAVEEY DUTIES 

be with them. ""Were there as many devils in "Worms as 
there arc tiles upon the roofs," said Martin Luther, "yet 
would 1 enter." Such a spirit is needed now "by the 
advocates of Eight. They must not be ashamed of the 
name which belongs to Franklin, Jefferson, and Wash- 
ington, — expressing the idea which should be theirs, — 
Abolitionist. They must be thorough, uncompromising 
advocates of the repeal of slavery, — of its abolition 
under the laws and Constitution of the United States. 
They must be Eepealers, Abolitionists. 

There are a few such now in Congress. Massachu- 
setts has a venerable Representative, 1 whose aged bo- 
som still glows with inextinguishable fires, like the 
central heats of the monarch mountain of the Andes 
beneath its canopy of snow. To this cause he dedicates 
tin; closing energies of a long and illustrious life. 
Would that all might join him! 

There is a Senator of Massachusetts we had hoped 
to welcome here to-day, whose position is of command- 
ing influence. Let me address him with the respectful 
frankness of a constituent and friend. Already, Sir, 
by various labors, yon have acquired an honorable place 
in the history of our country. By the vigor, argu- 
mentation, and eloquence with which you upheld the 
Union, and thai interpretation of the Constitution which 
makes us a Nation, you have .justly earned the title of 
Defender of the Constitution. By masterly and success- 
ful negotiation, and by efforts to compose the strife con- 
cerning Oregon, you have earned another title, — Dc- 
fender of Peace. Pardon me, if I add, that there are yet 
other duties claiming your care, whose performance will 
be the ciown of a long lite in the public service. Do 

1 John Quincy Adams. 



OF THE WHIG I 'ARTY. 316 

no1 forgel them. Dedicate, Sir, the years happily in 
store for you, with all that precious experience which 
is yours, to grand endeavor, in the name of Human 
Freedom, for the overthrow of that terrible evil which 
now afflicts our country. In this cause arc inspirations 
to eloquence higher than any you have yet confessed. 

•• To heavenly themes sublimer -train- belong." 

Do not shrink Prom the task. With the marvellous 

powers that are vans, under the auspicious influences 
of an awakened public sentiment, and under God, who 
smiles always upon conscientious labor for the welfare 
of man, we may hope for beneficent results. Assume, 
then, these unperformed duties. The aged shall hear 
witness to you ; the young shall kindle with rapture, 
as they repeat the name of Webster; the large com- 
pany of the ransomed shall teach their children and 
their children's children, to the latest generation, to 
call yon blessed ; and you shall have yet another title, 
never to be forgotten on earth or in heaven, — Defender 
of Humanity, — by the side of which that earlier title 
will fade into insignificance, as the Constitution, which 
i- the work of mortal hands, dwindles by the side of 
.Man. created in the image of God. 1 

I my mind it is clear that the time has arrived 
when the Whigs of Ma-satdmsetts, the party of Freedom, 
owe it to their declared principles, to their character 
before the world, and to conscience, that they should 
plan- themselves firmly on this honest ground. They 
need uot fear to stand alone. They need not fear sep- 
aration from brethren with whom they have acted in 
concert. Better be separated even from them than from 

1 II •. Mr. Webster regarded this appeal will be seen in a letter from him 
at the end of tin- S] 



31G ANTISLAYERY DUTIES OF THE WHIG PARTY. 

the Right. Massachusetts can stand alone, if need be. 
The Whigs of Massachusetts can stand alone. Their 
motto should not be, " Our party, howsoever hounded" but 
" Our party, bounded always by the Eight," They must 
recognize the dominion of Eight, or there will be none 
who will recognize the dominion of the party. Let us, 
then, in Faneuil Hall, beneath the images of our fathers, 
vow perpel ual allegiance to the Eight, and perpetual hos- 
tility to Slavery. Ours is a noble cause, nobler even 
than that of our fathers, inasmuch as it is more exalted 
to struggle for the freedom of others than for our own. 
The love of Eight, which is the animating impulse of 
our movement, is higher even than the love of Freedom. 
But Eight, Freedom, and Humanity all concur in de- 
manding the Abolition of Slavery. 



LETTER OF MR. WEBSTER TO MR. SUMNER. 

Marsiifield, October 5, 1846. 

My dear Sir, — I had the pleasure to receive yours of September 
25th, and thank you for the kind and friendly sentiments which you 
express. These sentiments are reciprocal. I have ever cherished 
high respect for your character and talents, and seen with pleasure the 
promise of your future and greater eminence and usefulness. 

In political affairs we happen to entertain, at the present moment, a 
difference of opinion respecting the relative importance of some of the 
political questions of the time, and take a different view of the line of 
duty most lit to be pursued in endeavors to obtain all the good which 
can be obtained in connection with certain important subjects. These 
differences I much regret, bul shall not allow them to interfere with 
persona] regard, or my continued good wishes for your prosperity and 
happiness. 

Yours truly, 

DANIEL WEBSTER. 

Mr. Scmneb. 



WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR 
AGAINST MEXICO. 

Letter to Hon. I.' beri 0. Winthrop, Representative in Con- 
qress rROM Boston, October ii5, 1840. 



SI I.'. Newspapers, and some among your friends, 
complain of the manner in which many of your con- 
stituents are obliged to regard your vote on the Mexican 
War Bill. This vole is defended with an ardor such as 
even Truth, Freedom, and Right do not always find in 
their behalf, — while honest strictures arc attributed to 
personal motives, sometimes to a selfish desire for the 
place you now hold, sometimes even to a wanton pur- 
pose to injure you. 

All this may be the natural and inevitable incident of 
political controversy ; but it must he regretted that per- 
sonal feelings and imputations of personal selfishness 
should intrude into the discussion of an important ques- 
tion of public duty, — I mighl say, of public morals. 
As a Whig, never failing to vote for you when I had an 
opportunity, I have fell it proper on other occasions to 
review your course, and to express the sorrow it caused 
For this I am arraigned : and the question of public morals 
is forgotten in personal feeling. This is my excuse for 
recalling attention now to the true issue. Conscious of 
no feeling to yourself personally, except of good-will, 
mingled with the recollection of pleasant social inter- 



318 WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR 

course, I refer with pain to your vote, and the apologies 
for it which have been set up. As one of your constit- 
uents, I single you, who are the representative of Boston, 
among the majority with whom you acted. I am not 
a politician; and you will pardon me, therefore, if I 
do not bring your conduct to any test of party or of 
numbers, to any sliding scale of expediency, to any 
standard except the rule of Eight and Wrong. 

To understand your course, it will be necessary to con- 
sider the action of Congress in declaring war against 
Mexico. I shall state the facts and conclusions briefly 
as possible. 

By virtue of an unconstitutional Act of Congress, in 
conjunction with the de facta government of Texas, the 
latter was annexed to the United States some time in 
the month of December, 1845. If we regard Texas as a 
province of Mexico, its boundaries must be sought in 
the geography of that republic. If we regard it as an 
independenl State, they must be determined by the ex- 
tent of jurisdiction which the State was able to maintain. 
Now it seems clear thai the river Nueces was always 
recognized by Mexico as the western boundary; audit 
is undisputed that the State of Texas, since its Declara- 
tion of Independence, never exercised any jurisdiction 
beyond the Nueces. The Act of Annexation could nor, 
therefore, transfer to the United States any title to the 
region between the Xueces and the Rio Grande. Thai 
region belonged to Mexico. Certainly it did not belong 
to the United States. 

In the month of January, 1846, the President of the 

United States directed the troops under General Taylor, 

called the At in y of Occupation, to take possession of this 

ion. Here was an act of aggression. As might have 



A.GAINST MEXICO. 319 

been expected, it produced collision. The Mexicans, 
aroused in self-defence, sought to repel the invaders from 
their hearths and churches. Unexpected tidings reached 
Washington that the American forces were in danger. The 
President, in a message to Congress, called for succors. 

Here the question occurs, What was the duty of Con- 
gress in this emergency '. Clearly to withhold all sanc- 
tion to unjust war, — to aggression upon a neighboring 
Republic, — to spoliation of fellow-men. ( >ur troops were 
in danger only because upon foreign soil, forcibly displa- 
cing the jurisdiction and laws of the rightful government. 
In this condition of things, the way of safety, jusl and 
honorable, was by instant withdrawal from the Rio 
Grande to the Nueces. Congress should have spoken 
like Washington, when General Braddock, staggered by 
tlif peril of the moment, asked the youthful soldier, 
"What shall I do, Colonel Washington?" "KE- 
TEEAT, Sir! RETREAT, Sir:" was the earnest re- 
ply. The American forces should have been directed to 
retreat, — not from any human force, hut from wrong- 
doing ; and this would have been a true victory. 

.Mas : this was nut the mood of ( 'undress. Wit li wicked 
speed a bill was introduced, furnishing large and un- 
usual supplies of men and money. In any just sense, 
such provision was wasteful and unnecessary; hut it 
would hardly be worthy of criticism, if confined in its 

ohject tu the safety of the troops. When made, it must 

have been known that the late of the troops was already 
derided, while the 1 1 1; i Li 1 1 i t iide of tlie appropriations and 
the number of volunteers called for showed that meas- 
ures were contemplated beyond self-defence. Self-defence 
is easy and (heap. Aggression and injustice are diffi- 
cult and costly. 



320 WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR 

The bill, in its earliest guise, provided money and 
volunteers only. Suddenly an amendment is introduced, 
in the nature of a preamble, which gives to it another 
character, in harmony with the covert design of the large 
appropriation. This was adopted by a vote of 123 to 
<»7 ; and the bill then leaped forth, fully armed, as a 
measure of open and active hostility against Mexico. As 
such, it was passed by a vote of 174 to 14. This was on 
the 11th of May, 1846, destined to be among the dark 
days of our history. 

The amendment, in the nature of a preamble, and the 
important part of the bill, are as follows. 

" Whereas, by the act of the Republic of Mexico, a state of 
war exists between //"if Government and the United States, — 

" Be it enacted, etc., That, for the 2)urpose of enabling the 
Government of the United States to prosecute said war to a 
speedy and successful termination, the President be, and he 
is hereby, authorized to employ the militia, naval, and mili- 
tary forces of the United States, and to call for and accept 
the services of any number of volunteers, not exceeding fifty 
thousand, and that the sum of ten millions of dollars be, 
and the same is hereby, appropriated for the purpose." 

This Act cannot be regarded merely as provision for 
the safety of General Taylor; nor, indeed can this be 
considered the principal end proposed. It has other 
and ulterior objects, broader and more general, in view 
of which his safety, important as it miglri be, is of com- 
parative insignificance; as it would be less mournful to 
l"se a whole army than lend the solemn sanction of 
legislation to an unjust war. 

This Ait maybe considered in six different aspects. 
It is six times wrong. Six different and unanswerable 
reasons should have urged its rejection. Six different 



A.GAINST MEXICO. 



121 



appeals should have touched every heart. 1 shall con- 
aider them separately. 

First h is practically a Declabation of Wab 
against ;l sister Republic. By the Constitution of the 
United States, the power of declaring war is vested in 
Congress. Before this Act was passed, the Mexican War 
had no legislative sanction. Without this Act it could 
have no Legislative sanction By virtue of this Act the 
presenl war is waged. By virtue of this Act, an Ameri- 
can fleet, at immense cosl of money, and without any 
gain of character, is now disturbing the commerce of 
Mexico, and of the civilized world, by the blockade of 
i Cruz. By virtue of this Act, a distant expedition, 
with pilfering rapacity, has seized the defenceless prov- 
ince of < lalifornia. By virtue of this Act General Kearney 
lias marched upon and captured Santa Fe. By virtue of 
this Act General Taylor has perpetrated the massacre 
at Monterey. By virtue of this Act desolation has been 
carried into a thousand homes, while the uncoffined 
bodies of sons, brothers, and husbands are consigned to 
premature graves. Lastly, it is by virtue of this Act 
that the army of the United States lias been converted 
into a legalized band of brigands, marauders, and bandit- 
ti, against the sanctions of civilization, justice, and hu- 
manity. American soldiers, who have fallen wretchedly 
in the streets of a foreign city, in the attack upon a 
Bishop's palace, in contest with Christian fellow-men 
defending firesides and altars, may claim the epitaph of 
Simonides: " Go, tell the Lacedaemonians that we lie here 
in obedience to their commands." It was in obedience 

to this Act of ( longress that they laid down their lives. 

Secondly. This Act gives the sanction of Congress to 
an vmjust war. War is barbarous and brutal ; but this 

14* U 



322 WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAB 

is unjust. It grows out of aggression on our part, and 
is continued by aggression. The statement of facts al- 
ready made is sufficient on this head. 

Thirdly. It declares that war exists " by the act of 
in* Republic of Mexico" This statement of brazen false- 
hood is inserted in the front of the Act. But it is now 
admitted by most, if not all, of the Whigs who unhap- 
pily voted for it, that it is not founded in fact. It is a 
national lie. 

" Whose tongue soe'er speaks false 
Not truly speaks; who speaks nut truly lies." 

Fourthly. It provides for the prosecution of the war 
"to a speedy and successful termination," — that is, for 
the speedy and successful prosecution of unjust war. 
Surely no rule can be better founded in morals than 
that we should seek the establishment of right. How, 
then, can we strive to hasten the triumph of wrong \ 

Fifthly. The war has its origin in a series of meas- 
ures to extend and perpetuate slavery. A wise and 
humane legislator should have discerned its source, and 
found fresh impulses to oppose it. 

Sixthly. The war is dishonorable and cowardly, as 
the attack of a rich, powerful, numerous, and united 
republic upon a weals and defenceless neighbor, dis- 
tracted by civil feud. Every consideration of honor, 
manliness, and Christian duty prompted gentleness and 
forbearance towards our unfortunate sister. 

Such, Sir, is the Act of Congress which received your 
sanction. Hardly does it yield in importance to any 
measure of our Government since the adoption of the 
National Constitution. It is the most wicked in our 

history, as it is oi f the mosl wicked in all history. 

The recording Musi' will drop a tear over its turpitude 



LG \inst MEXICO. 323 

and injustice, while it is gibbeted for the disgust and 
reprobation of mankind. 

Such, Sir, ia the Art of Congress to which by your 
affirmative vote the people of Boston are made parties. 
Through you they are made to declare unjust and eow- 
ardly war, with superadded falsehood, in the cause of 
Slavery. Through you they are made partakers in the 
blockade of Vera Cruz, the seizure of California, the 
capture of Santa Fe, the bloodshed of Monterey. It. 
were idle to suppose that the soldier or officer only is 
stained by this guilt. It reaches far back, ami incarna- 
dines ill' 1 Halls of Congress; nay, more, through you, 
it reddens the bands of your constituents in Boston. 
Pardon this language. Strong as it may seem, it is 
weak to express the aggravation of this Act. Rather 
than lend your hand to this wickedness, you should have 
suffered the army of the United States to pass submis- 
sively through the Caudine Forks of Mexican power, — 
to perish, it might he, like the Legions of Varus. Their 
bleached hones, in the distant valleys where they were 
waging unjust war, would not tell to posterity such a 
tale of ignominy as this Lying Act of Congress. 

Passing from the character ami consequences of your 
vote, I proceed to examine the grounds on which it is 
vindicated : for it is vindicated, by yourself, ami by some 
of your friends ! 

The lii-t vindication, apology, or extenuation appears 
in your speech on the Tariff, delivered in the House of 
Representatives, June 25th. This was a deliberate 
effort, more than six weeks subsequent to the vote, and 
after all the disturbing influences of haste and surprise 
had passed It may he considered, therefore, t<» express 
your own view of the ground on which it is to he sus- 



324 WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR 

tabled. And here, w hile you declare, with commendable 
frankness, that you " would by no means be understood 
to vindicate the justice" (why not say the truth?) "of 
the declaration that war exists by the act of Mexico," 
yet you adhere to your vote, and animadvert upon the 
conduct tit' Mexico, in refusing to receive a minister 
instead of a commissioner, as if that were a vindication, 
apology, or extenuation ! Do we live in a Christian 
land ? Is this the nineteenth century ? Does an Amer- 
Lcarj statesman venture any such suggestion in vindi- 
cation, apology, or extenuation of war ? On this point 
I join issue. By the Law of Nations as now enlight- 
ened by civilization, by the law of common sense, by 
the higher law of Christian duty, the fact presented 
in your vindication can form no ground of war. This 
attempt has given pain to many of your constituents 
hardly less than the original vote. It shows insensi- 
bility to the true character of war, and perverse adher- 
ence to the fatal act of wrong. It were possible to 
suppose a representative, not over-tenacious of moral 
purpose, shaken from his firm resolve by the ardors of 
a tyrannical majority ordaining wicked tilings; but it 
is less easy to imagine a deliberate vindication of the 
hasty wrong, when the pressure of the majority is re- 
moved, ami time affords opportunity for the recovery of 
that sense of Righl which was for a while overturned. 

Another apology, in which yon and your defenders par- 
ticipate, is founded on the alleged duty of voting succors 
to our troops, and the impossibility of doing this with- 
out voting also for the bill, after it was converted into 
a Declaration of Falsehood and of War. It is said that 
patriotism required this vote. Is not that name pro- 
1 li\ this apology ? One of your honored predeces- 



AiiAINST MEXICO. 325 

sots, Sir, a Representative of Boston on the floor of Con- 
gress, Mr. Quincy, replied to such apology, when, on an 
occasion of trial qoI unlike that through which you have 
jusl passed, he gave utterance to these noble words: — 

•• But it is said thai this resolution must be taken as 'a 
test of Patriotism.' To this I have but one answer. If 
Patriotism ask me to assert a falsehood, I have no hesitation 
in telling Patriotism, ' I am not prepared to make that 
sacrifice.' The duty we owe to our country is, indeed, 
among the most solemn and impressive of all obligations; 
yet, high as it may be, it is nevertheless subordinate to that 
which we owe t<> that Being with whose name and character 
(ruth is identified. In this respect I deem myself acting 
upon this resolution under a higher responsibility than 
either to this House or to this people." 1 

These words were worthy of Boston. May her Rep- 
resentatives never more fail to feel their inspiration! 
"But," say the too swift defenders, " Mr. Winthrop voted 
against the falsehood once." Certainly no reason for 
not voting against it always. But the excuse is still 
pressed, ." Succors to General Taylor should have been 
voted." The result shows that even these were unne- 
cessary. Before the passage of this disastrous Act of 
Congress, his troops had already achieved a success to 
which may he applied the words of Milton: — 

"That dishonest victory 
At Cha?ronea,/fl*a/ to liberty.''' 

Hut it would have been less wrong to leave him with- 
out succors, even if needful to his safety, than to vote 
falsehood and unjust war. In seeing that the republic 
received no detriment, you sin mid not have regarded 

1 Speech on the Resolution concerning the Conduct <>f tin' British Minis- 
ter, Dec. 28, 1809: Annals of Congress, Eleventh Congress, Second Session, 
col. 958. 



326 WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR 

the army only ; your highest care should have been that 
its good name, its moral and Christian character, received 
no d< trirrn nt. You might have said, in the spirit of vir- 
tuous Andrew Fletcher, that " you would lose your life 
to serve your country, but would not do a base thing to 
save it." You might have adopted the words of Sheri- 
dan, in the British Parliament, during our Revolution, 
that you " could not assent to a vote that seemed to 
imply a recognition or approbation of the war." 1 

Another apology is, that the majority of the "Whig par- 
ty joined with you, — or, as it has been expressed, that 
" Mr. Winthrop voted with all the rest of the weight 
of moral character in Congress, from the Free States, 
belonging to the Whig party, not included ia the Massa- 
chusetts delegation"; and suggestions are made in dis- 
paragement of the fourteen who remained unshaken in 
loyalty to Truth and Peace. In the question of Eight 
or Wrong, it is of little importance that a few fallible 
men, constituting what is called a majority, are all of 
one mind. Supple or insane majorities are found in 
every age to sanction injustice. It was a majority which 
passed the Stamp Act and Tea Tax, — which smiled up- 
on the persecution of Galileo, — which stood about the 
stake of Servetus, — which administered the hemlock 
to Socrates, — which called for the crucifixion of our 
Lord. These majorities cannot make us hesitate to con- 
demn such acts and their authors. Aloft on the throne 
of God, and nol below in the footprints of a trampling 
multitude, are the sacred rules of Eight, which no major- 
ities can displace or overturn. And the question recurs, 
AYas it right to declare unjust and cowardly war, with 
superadded falseh 1, in the cause of Slavery? 

l Speech, Nov. 27, 1780: Hansard, Pari. Hist., XXI. D05. 



A.GAINST MEXICO. 327 

Thus do I Bel forth the character of your act, and the 
apologies by which it is shielded. I boped thai you 
would see the wrong, and with true magnanimity repair 
it. I boped thai your friends would all join in assist- 
ing you to recover the attitude of uprightness which 
becomes a Representative from Boston. Hut 1 am dis- 
appointed. 

1 add, that your course in other respects lias been in 
disagreeable harmony with the vote on the Mexican War 
Bill Icannol forgel — fori sat by your side at the time 
— that on the Fourth of July, L845,in Faneuil Hall, you 
aded the hand of fellowship to Texas, although this 
slaveholding community was not yet received among the 
States of the Union. 1 cannot forgel the toast, 1 on the 
same occasion, by which you were willing to connect 
your name with an epigram of dishonest patriotism. I 
cannot forget your apathy at a later day, when many of 
your constituents engaged in constitutional efforts to 
oppose the admission of Texas with a slaveholding con- 
stitution, — so strangely inconsistent with your recent 
a\ owaJ of " uncompromising host Qity to all measures for 
introducing new Slave States and new slave Territories 
into our Union." 2 Nor can I forget the ardor with which 
you devoted yourself to the less important question of 
the Tariff, — indicating the relative value of the two in 
r mind. The vote on the Mexican War Bill seems 
to be the dark consummation of your course. 

Pardon me, if I ask you, on resuming your seat in 

Congress, to testify at once, without hesitation or de- 

against the further prosecution of this war. Forgel 

i "Our country, — however bounded, still our country, to be defended 
by all our hands." 

- S] Ch at the Whig Convention in Faneuil Hall, St-pt. 'J::. 1846. 



328 WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR 

for a while Sub-Treasury, Veto, even Tariff, and re- 
member this wicked war. With the eloquence which 
you command so easily, and which is your pride, call 
for the instant cessation of hostilities. Let your cry be 
that of Falkland in the Civil Wars: "Peace! Peace!" 
Think not of what you call in your speeches "an hon- 
orable peace." There can be no peace with Mexico 
which will not be more honorable than this war. Every 
fresh victory is a fresh dishonor. " Unquestionably," 
you have strangely said, " we are not to forget that 
Mexico must be willing to negotiate." 1 No ! no ! Mr. 
Winthrop ! We are not to wait for Mexico. Her con- 
sent is not needed ; nor is it to be asked, while our 
armies are defiling her soil by their aggressive footsteps. 
She is passive. We alone are active. Stop the war. 
Withdraw our forces. In the words of Colonel Wash- 
ington, Retreat! retreat! So doing, we shall cease 
from further wrong, and peace will ensue. 

Let me ask you to remember in your public course 
the rules of Right which you obey in private life. The 
principles of morals are the same for nations as for 
individuals. Pardon ine, if I suggest that you have not 
acted invariably according to this truth. You would 
not in y<»ur private capacity set your name to a false- 
hood; but you have done so as Representative in Con- 
gress. You would not in your private capacity coun- 
tenance wrong, even in friend or child; but as Repre- 
sentative you have pledged yourself "not to withhold 
your vote from any reasonable supplies which maybe 
called for" 2 in the prosecution of a wicked war. Do by 

l Speech al the Whig Convention, Sept 23, 1846. 
- Sjn'ccli cm tlic TaritV, .luni' 25, 1846: Congressional Globe, Twenty-ninth 
Congri .1 irst Session, p. 070. 



AGAINST MEXICO. 329 

your country as by friend or child. To neither of these 
would you furnish means of offence againsl a neigh- 
bor; do nol furnish to your country any such means. 
Again, you would uo1 hold slaves. 1 doubl no1 you 
would join with Mr. Palfrey in emancipating any who 
should become yours by inheritance or otherwise. But 
I do not hear of your effort or sympathy with those 
who Beek to carry into our institutions that practical 
conscience which declares it to be as wrong- in States 
as in individuals to sanction slavery. 

Let me ask you still further — and you will know if 
there is reason for this request — to bear testimony 
against the Mexican War, and all supplies for its pros- 
ecution, regardless of the minority in which you are 
placed. Think, Sir, of the cause, and not of your asso- 
ciates. Forget for a while the tactics of party, and all 
its subtle combinations. Emancipate yourself from its 
close-woven web, -pun as from a spider's belly, and 
move in the pathway of Right. Remember that you 
represent the conscience of Boston, the churches of the 
Puritans, the city of Channing. 

.Meanwhile a fresh election is at hand, and you are 
again a candidate for the suffrages of your fellow-citi- 
zens. 1 shall not anticipate their verdict. Yourblame- 
less private life and well-known attainments will re- 
ceive the approbation of all; but more than one of your 
neighbors will be obliged to say, — 

" Ca?-i". I love thee, 
But nevermore be officer of mine! " 

I am, Sir, your obedient servant, 

Charles Su.mnki:. 

October 26, 1846. 



REFUSAL TO BE A CANDIDATE FOR 
CONGRESS. 

Notice in tiie Boston Papers, October 31, 1S4G. 



After the appearance of Mr. Sumner's letter to Mr. Winthrop, there 
was a disposition with curtain persons feeling strongly on Slavery and the 
Mexican War to seek a candidate against the latter. Mr. Sunnier again 
and again refused to accept a nomination. Besides his constant unwill- 
ingness to enter into public life, he would not consent that his criticism 
of Mr. Winthrop should be weakened by the imputation of an unworthy 
desire for his place. In his absence from Boston, lecturing before 
Lyceums in Maine, a meeting of citizens was convened at the Tremont 
Temple on the evening of I >ctober29, 1846, to make what was called an 
"independent nomination for Congress." The meeting was called to 
order by Dr. S. (i. Howe, and organized by the choice of the following 
officers: Hon. Charles F. Adams, President, — J. P. Blanchard, Samuel 
May, George Merrill, Dr. Walter ('banning, Dr. Henry I. Bowditeh, 
andR. I. Attwill, Vice-Presidents, — Charles G. Davis and J. II. Frevert, 
Secretaries. A committee was appointed to draft resolutions and nom- 
inate a candidate. This committee, by its chairman, John A. Andrew, 
afterward- Governor of Massachusetts, reported an elaborate scries of 
resolutions, setting forth reasons for a separate nomination, and con- 
cluding with a resolution in the following terms. 

"Resolved, That we recommend to the citizens of this District as a can- 
didate for Representative in the National Congress a man raised by his 
pure character above reproach, whose firmness, intelligence, distinguished 
ability, rational patriotism, manly independence, and glowing love of lib- 
erty and truth entitle him to the unbought confidence of bis fellow-cit- 
izens, — CHARLES SUMNER, of Boston, — fitted to adorn any station, 
always found on the side of the Itight, and especially worthy at the 
present crisis to represenl the interests of the city and the cardinal prin- 
ciples of Truth, Justice, Liberty, and Peace, which have not yet died out 
from the heart- of her citizen-." 

Mr Andrew followed the reading of the resolutions with a speech, in 
which he vindicated the position of Mr. Sumner as follows. 



REFUSAL TO BE A CANDIDATE FOR CONGRESS. 331 

" Mr. President, I shall have done no adequate justice to tin' views of tin' 
committee, to this meeting, to the distinguished friend of Peace and Liberty 
to whose nomination tin- crowded assembly has with such gratifying and 
enthusiastic heartiness bo unequivocally responded, nor, indeed, to my own 
feelings, until I -hall have made a single statement of fact in regard to the 
attitude of Mr. Sumner himself towards the act we have just felt it our duty 
to perform. 

" This nomination, grateful as it may be to hi- feelings, considered as an 
evidence of personal attachment and respect on the part of bo many of his 
friends and fellow-citizens, will find him wholly unprepared for it> n 
tion: more than that, a- I myself do know, he will hear of it with surprise 
and regret. Though 1 am unaware that any member of the committee, 
other than myself, ha- had any immediate personal knowledge of tin- views 
likely to he entertained by him in this regard, 1 -ay, what no living man 
can truly dispute or honestly question, that this nomination has been made 
upon tin' entire responsibility and sense of duty of this committee, — not 
only without the knowledge, approbation, or consent of Mr. Sunnier, but in 
the face of hi- constant, repeated, and determined refusal, at all time-, to 
allow his name, even for a moment, to he held at the disposal "f friends for 
such a purpose. 

•• A delicate and sensitive appreciation of hi- attitude, a- one of the earliest, 
strongest, and most open of those opposed to the dealings of our present 
member of Congress with the matter of the Mexican War, determined Mr. 
Sumner, although looked to by — may I not say every individual who sym- 
pathizes in this present movement of opposition, as the man to hear our 
standard on the field of controversy? — determined him to resist every 
effort to draw him forth from the humblest station in our ranks. 

'• lh ■ w..nld think, write, and speak a- his own mind and heart were 
moved; hut lie would do nothing, he would permit nothing to he done, for 
himself, for hi- own persona] promotion." 

Mr. Andrew then proceeded to mention what induced the committee 
to disregard Mr. Sumner'- known wishes. 

The resolutions were adopted unanimously. A committee of vigi- 
lance wa- appointed. Mr. Sumner'- letter to Mr. Winthrop, with the 
nport of this meeting, signed by the President and Secretaries, was 
printed on a broad-side. 

Meanwhile Mr. Sumner returned from Maine, when, mi learning 
what had passed, he at once withdrew his name in the following notice. 

LATE lasl evening, ob myreturn from Bangor, where 
L had been in pursuance of an engagemenl made 

lasl August, I was surprised to lind myself nominated 
as candidate for Confess. 



332 REFUSAL TO BE A CANDIDATE FOE CONGRESS. 

I have never on any occasion sought or desired public 
office of any kind. I do not now. My tastes are alien 
to official life ; and I have long been accustomed to look 
to other fields of usefulness. 

My name has been brought forward, in my absence, 
wit limit any knowledge or suspicion on my part of such 
a purpose, and contrary to express declarations, repeat- 
edly made, that 1 would nut, under any circumstances, 
consent to lie a candidate. 

Grateful for the kindness of friends who have thought 
me worthy of political confidence, and regretting much 
that it is not bestowed upon some one else, who would 
fitly represent the idea of opposition to the longer con- 
tinuance of the unjust war with Mexico, I beg leave 
respectfully, but explicitly, to withdraw my name from 

the canvass. 

Charles Sumner. 

Saturday, October 31. 



SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

SpEEcn at a Public Meeting in the Tremont Temple, Boston, 

N..\ EMBER 5, 1 S 16. 



Tin: sentiment against Slavery and the Mexican War found expres- 
sion in the independent nomination «>t'l)r. S. (i. Bowe as Representative 
to < !ong n --. At a meeting of citizens to support this nomination, John 
A Andrew, Esq., was called to the chair. The following resolution was 
reported from the District Committee by John S. Eldridge, Esq. 

M Rooked, That in the determination of our candidate, Dr. Samuei G 
Howe, 'to Btand and be shot at.' we recognize the spirit of a man distin- 
guished by a lit - '- of service in various Selds of humanity; and, confident!] 
trusting in the triumph of -omul principles, we heartily pledge ourselves to 
make, with untiring zeal, every honorable effort to secure the election of a 
candidate who has boldly identified himself with the cause of Truth, 1' 
Justice, the Liberties of the North, and the Rights of Man." 

On this resolution Mr. Sumner made the speech given below. He 
was followed by Hon. C. F. Adams, who reviewed the Anti-Slavery pol- 
icy pursued for several years by the Massachusetts Legislature, and the 
obstacles they encountered. 

At the election, which took place on Monday, November 9th, the vote 
was a- follows: Winthrop (Whig), 5,980 ; Howe (Anti-Slavery), 1,334 j 
Homer (Democrat), 1,688; Whiton (Independent), 331. 

Ml;. CHAIEMAN,— When, in the month of July, 
L830, the people of I'an< rose againsl the arbi- 
trary ordinances of Charles tin- Tenth, and, after three 
days id' bloody contest, succeeded in thai Revolution 
which gave the dynasty <>i' Orleans to the throne of 
Prance, Lafayette, votary of Liberty in two hemisph 



334 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

placing himself at the head of the movement, made his 
way on foot to the City Hall, through streets impassable 
to carriages, filled with barricades, and strewn with 
wrecks of war. Moving along with a thin attendance, 
he was unexpectedly joined by a gallant Bostonian, who, 
though young in life, was already eminent by seven 
years of disinterested service in the struggle for Gre- 
cian independence against the Turks, who had listened 
to the whizzing of bullets, and narrowly escaped the 
descending scimitar. Lafayette, considerate as brave, 
turned to his faithful friend, and said, "Do not join 
me ; this is a danger for Frenchmen only ; reserve your- 
self for your own country, where you will be needed." 
Our fellow-citizen heeded him not, but continued by his 
side, sharing his perils. That Bostonian was Dr. Howe. 
And now the words of Lafayette are verified. He is 
needed by his country. At the present crisis, in our 
Revolution of " Three Days," he comes forward to the 
post of danger. 

I do not disguise the satisfaction I shall feel in vot- 
ing for him, beyond even the gratification of personal 
friendship, because he is not a politician. His life is 
thickly studded with labors in the best of all causes, 
the good of man. He is the friend of the poor, the 
blind, the prisoner, the slave. Wherever there is suf- 
fering, there his friendship is manifest. Generosity, 
disinterestedness, self-sacrifice, and courage have been 
his inspiring sentiments, directed by rare sagacity and 
intelligence; and now, wherever Humanity is regarded, 
wherever bosoms beal responsive to philanthropic effort, 
his name is cherished. Such a character reflects lustre 
upon the place of his birth, far more than if he had 
excelled only in the strife of politics or the servitude 
of party. 



3LA.VER7 AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 335 

Ee has qualities which especially commend him at 
this time. He is firm, ever true, honest, determined, a 
lover of the Right. With a courage thai charms oppo- 
sition, lie would lid fear to stand alone againsl a fervid 
majority. Knowing war by fearful familiarity, lie is 
an earnest defender of peace. With a singular experi- 
ence of life in other countries, he now brings the stores 
he has garnered up, and his noble spirit, to the service 
of his fellow-citizens. 

But we are assembled to-nighl less to consider his 
praises — grateful as these would be to me, who claim 
him as friend— than to examine the principles now 
in issue. Not names, but principles, are now in issue. 
Proud as we may be of our candidate, we feel, and lie 
too feels, thai his principles on the grave questions now 
pending are his truest recommendation. 

In examining these questions, 1 shall regard thus,. 
only which are put in issue by the Whigs. It is with 
the Whigs that I have heretofore acted, and may here- 
after act, — always confessing loyalty to principles 
above any party. 

The Resolutions of the recent Whig State Convention 
present five different questions, with the opinions of the 
party thereupon. These are the Veto of the President, 
the Sub-Treasury, the Tariff, Slavery, and the Mexican 
War. Now, of these five questions, it will not be dis- 
guised that the last two are the most important. Slavery 
is a wrong which justice and humanity alike condemn. 
The Mexican War \a an enormity born of Slavery. 
Viewed as a question of dollars and edits, it over- 
shadows the others; while the blackness of its guilt 
compels them to the darkness of a total eclipse. Base 
in object, atrocious in beginning, immoral in all its 



336 SLAVERY AND THE -MEXICAN WAR. 

influences, vainly prodigal of treasure and life; it is a 
■war of infamy, which must blot the pages of our his- 
tory. No success, no bravery, no victory can change 
its character. Vainly will our flag wave in triumph 
over twenty fields. Shame, and not glory, will attend 
our footsteps, while, in the spirit of a bully, we em- 
ploy superior resources of wealth and numbers in carry- 
ing death and devastation to a poor, distracted, long af- 
flicted sister republic. Without disparaging the other 
questions, every just and humane person will recognize 
Slavery and the Mexican War as paramount to all else, 
— so much so, that whoever is wrong on these must be 
so entirely wrong as not to deserve the votes of Mas- 
sachusetts men. 

The Whig Convention has furnished a rule or meas- 
ure of opinion. It has expressly pledged the Whigs "to 
promote all constitutional measures for the overthrow 
of Slavery, and to oppose at all times, with uncompro- 
mising zeal and firmness, any further addition of slave- 
holding States to this Union, out of whatever territory 
formed." The Mexican War it has denounced as hav- 
ing its origin in an invasion of Mexico by our troops. 

Now on these subjects Dr. Bowe's opinions are clear 
and explicit, lie is an earnest, hearty, conscientious op- 
ponent of Slavery, and in his speech at your former 
meeting he denounced the injustice of the Mexican War, 
and, as a natural consequence, demanded the instant 
retreat of General Taylor's troops to the Xueces. 

And this brings me to Mr. Winthrop. Here lei me 
carefully disclaim any sentimenl except of kindness 
towards him as a citizen. It is of Mr. Winthrop the 
politician thai I .-peak, and not of Mr. Winthrop the 
honorable gentleman. 



si.ayi'.ky ami Tin; MEXICAN WAR 331 

Ami, first, what may we expecl from him againsl 
Slavery*. Will he promote all constitutional measures 
foT Its a\ erthrow '. ( Jlearly one of these is the Abolil ion 
ofSlavery in the Districl of Columbia. This is within 
the constitutional powers of < longress, and has been called 
for expressly by our State. It has sometimes occurred 
to me that Slavery in our country is like the image m 
Nebuchadnezzar's dream, whose feet of clay are in the 
District of Columbia, where they may be shivered by 
Congressional Legislation, directed by an enlightened 
Northern sentiment, so thai the whole image shall tum- 
ble to the earth. Other measures againsl Slavery are 
sanctioned by the Massachusetts Whigs, and by the Le- 
gislature of our State, in formal resolutions, duly trans- 
mitted to Washington. I have never heard of Mr. 
Winthrop's voire for any of these, — nor, judging by the 
past, have I any reason to believe that he will support 
them earnestly. On these important points lie fails, if 
tried by "Whig standards. 

Will he oppose, at all times, without compromise, any 
further addition of slaveholding States? Here again, if 
we judge him by the past, he is wanting. None can 
forget that in 184.", on the Fourth of. Inly, a day ever 

■■ -d to memories of Freedom, in a speech at Faneuil 
Hall, he volunteered, in advance of any other Northern 
Whig, to receive Texas with a welcome into the family 
of States, although on that very day she was preparing 
a ( lonstitution placing Slavery beyond the reach of legis- 
lative change. 

The conclusion is irresistible, that Mr. Winthrop can- 
not fitly represent the feeling palpitating in Massachu- 
setts bosoms, and so often expressed by our Legislature, 
with regard to Slavery. 

VOL. I. 15 V 



338 SLAVER? AM) THE MEXICAN WAR. 

What may wo expect from him as to the Mexican War? 
This brings me to a melancholy inquiry, on which I am 
the less disposed to dwell because it has already been so 
fully considered. Will he ascend to the heights of a 
true civilization, and, while branding the war as unjust, 
call at once for its cessation, and the withdrawal of our 
forces ? There is no reason to believe that he will. He 
voted for the Act of Congress under which it is now 
waged, and by that disastrous vote made his constitu- 
ents partakers in a wicked and bloody war. At a later 
day, in an elaborate speech, 1 he vindicated his action, and 
promised " not to withhold his vote from any reasonable 
supplies which may be called for " in the prosecution of 
the war, — adding, that he should vote for them " to en- 
able the President to achieve that honorable peace which 
he has solemnly promised to bring about at the earliest 
possible moment" by the sword. And, pray, what is 
Mr. Winthrop's idea of an "honorable peace"? Is it 
peace imposed upon a weak neighbor by brute force, the 
successful consummation of unrighteous war ? Is it the 
triumph of wrong? Is it the Saturnalia of Slavery? 
Is it the fruit of sin ? Is it a baptism of blood unjustly 
shed ? In the same speech, with grievous insensibility to 
the sordid character of the suggestion, he pleads for the 
maintenance of the old Tariff, as necessary to meet "the 
exigencies" of the Mexican War. "In a time of war, 
like the present, more especially," he says, "an ample 
revenue should /»■ thr 'primary (dm ami end of all <>ur 
custom-house duties." Perish manufactures, let me rather 
say, if the duties by which they seem to be protected 
are swollen to teed "the exigencies" of unjust war! 
Afterwards, at Paneuil Hall, before the Whig Conven- 

1 Speech on tin' Tariff, June 25, 1846. 



sl.AVl'.KV AND TIIK MF.XI'AN W.Vll. 339 

tion, he shows a similar insensibility. Nowhere does he 
sound the word Duty. Nowhere does he teU his country 
to begin by doing right Nowhere does he give assur- 
ance of aid by calling for the instant stay of the war. 

There are those who, admitting that his vote was a 
mistake, say thai we are not to judge him on this account. 
Can we afford to send a representative wdio can make 
such a mistake '. Bui it is a mistake never by him 
acknowledged as such. It is stall persisted in, and 
hugged. Among the last words of warning from the 
lips of Chatham, as he fell at his posl in the British 
Senate, almost his dying words, were "againsl co-opera- 
tion with men who still persist in unretracted error." 

In his vote for the .Mexican War Mr. Winthrop was 
not a Whig, lie then left the party : for surely the 
party is not where numbers prevail, but where its prin- 
ciples are recognized. The true Whigs are the valiant 
minority of fourteen. Once in Roman history, the ves- 
tal tire, the archives, the sacred volumes of the Republic, 
were in the custody of a single individual, in a humble 
vehicle, fleeing from the burning city. With him was 
the life of the Republic. So in that small minority was 
the life of the Whig party, w r ith its principles and its 
sacred fire. 

The true Whig ground, the only ground consistent 
with professed loyalty to the sentiment of duty, is un- 
compromising opposition to the war, wheresoever and 
howsoever opposition may be made. Expecting right 
from Mexico, we must begin by doing right. We are 
aggressors, and must cease to be so. 

This is the proper course, having its foundations in 
immutable laws. Let me repeat, thai our country must 
do as an individual in like circumstances. For, though 



340 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

politicians may disown it, there is but one rule for na- 
tions and fur individuals. If any one of you, fellow- 
citizens, finding yourself in dispute with a neighbor, had 
unfortunately felled him to earth, but, with returning 
reason, discovered that you were wrong, what would you 
do ? Of course, cease instantly from wrong-doing. You 
would help your neighbor to his feet, and with awaken- 
ed benevolence soothe his wounded nature. Precisely 
so must our country do now. This can be only by 
the withdrawal of our forces. Peace would then fol- 
low. The very response sent to the Eoman Senate 
by a province of Italy might be repeated by the Mex- 
icans : " The Romans, having preferred justice to con- 
quest, have taught us to be satisfied with submission 
instead of liberty." 

That I may not found these conclusions upon general 
principles only, I would invoke the example of English 
Whigs, Chatham, Camden, Burke, Pox, and Sheridan, 
in opposition to the war of our Revolution, — denoun- 
cing it at the outset as unjust, and ever, during its 
whole progress, declaring their condemnation of it, — 
voting against supplies for its prosecution, and against 
thanks for the military services by which it was waged. 
Holding their example as of the highest practical au- 
thority on the present question, and as particularly fit 
in be regarded by all professing to be Whigs in America, 
I make aoapology for introducing the authentic evidence 
which places it beyond doubt, This is to be found in 
the volumes of the Parliamentary Debates. I am not 
aware that it lias ever before been applied to the present 
discussion, although if is in every word especially ap- 
plicable. 

I begin with that famous instance where two officers 



SLAVERY AND TIIH MEXICAN wak. 341 

— one the son of Lord Chatham, and the other the Earl 
of Effingham — flung up their commissions rather than 
fight against constitutional liberty as upheld by out 
fathers. In the case of the latter especially the sacri- 
fice was great ; for be was bred to anus, and enjoyed the 
service. From his place in the llnu.se of Lords, May 
L8, L775, he vindicated his act in the following terms. 

"Eversincel was of an age to have any ambition at all, my 
highest lias been to serve my country in a military capacity. 
If there was on earth an event I dreaded, it was to see this 
country bo Bituated aa to make that profession incompatible 
with my duty as a citizen. Thai period is in my opinion 

arrived When the duties of a soldier and a citizen 

Inc.. mi' inconsistent, 1 shall always think myself obliged to 
sink the character of the soldier in that of the citizen, till 
Buch time as those duties shall again, by the malice of our 
real enemies, become united." 

These generous words found an echo at the time. A 
note in the Parliamentary History says, "The Twenty- 
second Regiment of Foot, in which he held a captain's 
commission, being ordered to America, he resolved, 
though not possessed of an ample patrimony, to resign a 
darling profession, and all hopes of advancement, rather 
than bear arms in q cause he did not approve" ; and the 
record proceeds to say that "the cities of London and 
Dublin voted him their thanks for this conduct." 1 If a 
soldier could hear testimony against an unjust war, it 
was easy for others not under the constraint of martial 
prejudice to do bo. The sequel shows how the example 
prevailed. 

Firsl came the famous Duke of Grafton, who, in the 
House of Lords, on the Address of Thanks, < Ictober 26, 

i Vol. XVHL,coL688. See also Annual Begisterfor 1776, V< 1. XIX. p. 42]. 



342 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAK. 

177"', after the Battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill, 
said : — 

" I pledge myself to your Lordships and my country, that, 
if necessity should require it, and my health not otherwise 
permit it, I mean to come down to this House in a litter, in 
order to express my full and hearty disapprobation of the 
measures now pursuing, and, as I understand from the noble 
Lords in office, meant to be pursued. I do protest to your 
Lordships, that, if my brother or my dearest friend were to 
be affected by the vote I mean to give this evening, I could 
not possibly resist the faithful discharge of my conscience 
and my duty. Were I to lose my fortune and every other 
thing I esteem, were T to be reduced to beggary itself, the 
strong conviction and compulsion at once operating on my 
mind and conscience would not permit me to take any other 
part on the present occasion than that I now mean to adopt." 

A protest at the close of this debate was signed 
by several peers, containing the following emphatic 
clause : — 

" Because we cannot, as Englishmen, as Christians, or as 
men of common humanity, consent to the prosecution of a 
cruel civil war, so little supported by justice, and so very fa- 
tal in its necessary consequences, as that which is now wag- 
ing against our brethren and fellow-subjects in America.'' 

This was echoed in the House of Commons, where, 
on the same Address, Mr. Wilkes said : — 

" I rail the war with our brethren in America an unjust, 

felonious war 1 assert that it is a murderous war, 

because H is an efforl to deprive men of their lives for stand- 
ing up in the just cause of the defence of their property and 
their dear rights. It becomes no less a murderous war with 
■ cl to many of our fellow-subjects of this island ; for 
every man, cither of the navy or army, who lias been sent 



HAVIKY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 343 

by Government t<> America, and fallen a victim in this un- 
natural and unjusi contest, lias in my opinion been mur- 
dered by Administration, and his blood lies at their door. 

Sucb B war. I fear, Sir, will draw down the vengeance of 
Heaven upon this devoted kingdom." 

Mr. Fox expressed himself as follows: — 

'• /A could not consent (>> tkt bloody consequences of so silly 
a contest about so .silly an object, conducted in the silliest 
manner that history or observation had ever furnished an 
instance of, and from which we were likely to derive nothing 
but poverty, misery, disgrace, defeat, and ruin." 

Ee was followed by the eminent lawyer, Serjeant 
Adair : — 

" I am against the present war, because T think it unjust in 
its commencement, injurious to both countries in its prose- 
cution, and ruinous in its event 1 think, from the 

bottom of my soul, that the Colonies are engaged in a noble 

and glorious struggle Sir, I could not be easy in 

my own mind without entering the strongest and most pub- 
lic protestations against measures which appear to me to be 
fraught with the destruction of this mighty empire. Itoash 
my hands of the blood of my fellow-subjects^ and shall at 
least have this satisfaction, amidst the impending calamities 
of the public, not only to think that T have not contributed 
to, but that I have done all in my power to oppose and avert, 
the ruin of my country." 

During another debate in the Lords, Nbvembei 15, 
1775, thai 3trenuous friend of freedom and upholder 
of Whig principles, Lord Camden, declared himself 

thus : — 

•• Peace is still within our power; nay, we may command 
it. A suspension of arms on our part, if adopted in time, 
will secure it for us, and, I may add, on our own terms. 



344 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

From which it is plain, as we have been the original aggressors 
in this business, if we obstinately persist, we are fairly ansiver- 
able for all the consequences. I again repeat, what I often 
urged before, that I was against this unnatural war from 
the beginning. I was equally against every measure, from 
the instant the first tax was proposed to this minute. 
When, therefore, it is insisted that we aim only to defend 
and enforce our own rights, I positively deny it. I contend 
that America has been driven by cruel necessity to defend 
her rights from the united attacks of violence, oppression, 
and injustice. I contend that America has been indisputably 

aggrieved I must still think, and shall uniformly 

continue to assert, that Great Britain was the aggressor, 
that most, if not all, the acts were founded in oppression, 
and that, if I were an American, I should resist to the last 
such manifest exertion of tyranny, violence, and injustice." 

On another occasion, in the Commons, December 8, 
177.", Mr. Fox expressed himself thus sententiously : — 

" I have always said that the war carrying on against 
the Americans is unjust." 

Again, in tin- Lords, March 5, 1776, the Earl of 
Effingham said: — 

" 1 never can stand up in your Lordships' presence without 
throwing in a few words on the justice of this unnatural 
war." 

In the Commons, March 11, 1770, Colonel Barrel Air. 
Burke, Mr. Fox, all vied in eulogy of General Mont- 

n, tv the account of whose death before Quebec had 

arrived a lew days before. 

The same spirit was constantly manifest, In the 
Commons, April 24, L776, in the debate on the Budget, 
embodying taxes to carry on the war against America, 



si.AVKKV AND Till! MEXICAN WAR. 345 

Mr. Fox Laid down the constitutional rule of opposition 

to an unjust war. 

"To the resolutions tie Bhould give his flal uegative, and 
that aot because of any particular objections t<» the taxes 
proposal (although there might be a sumcienl ground for 
urging many), but becaust h> could not conscientiously agree 
to grant any money for so destructive, so ignoble a purpose as 
the carrying on a war commenced unjustly, and supported with 
no other view than /■> tin <,'/,',■/„/>:',,„ <>/ fn ,■/,,„> and the vio- 
lation of every social compact. Tins m. conceived to be 

THE BTRI< t LINE OF CONDUCT TO BE OBSERVED \'\ \ MEMBER 

of Parliament Be then painted the quarrel with 

America as unjust, and the pursuance of the war as blood- 
thirsty and oppressive.'' 

Colonel Bane' followed, and adopted the phrase of Mr. 
Fox, "giving his Hat uegative to the resolutions, as they 
calculated to tax the subject for an unjust purpose" 

The Duke of Grafton, in the Lords, October 31, 177b, 
repeated the sentiments he had avowed at an earlier 

day. 

•• Be pledged himself to the House, and to the public, 

that, while he had a leg to stand on, he would come down 

day after day to express the most marked abhorrence of the 

measures hitherto pursued, and meant to be adhered to, in 

■ to America." 

On the same night, in the Commons, Mr. Fox ex- 
claimed : — 

"The liable Lord who moved the amendment said that 
we were in the dilemma of conquering or abandoning America. 
If n; art reduced to that, I am for abandoning America? 

In the Commons, November 6, 1 7 7 • • . Mr. Burke 
likened England to a "cruel conqueror." 

15* 



346 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAS. 

" You simply tell the Colonists to lay down then' arms, 
and then you will do just as you please. Could the most 
cruel conqueror say less 1 Had you conquered the Devil 
himself in Hell, could you be less liberal 1 " 

Colonel Barre, in the Commons, February 10, 1777, 
insisted : — 

•• America must be reclaimed, not conquered or subdued. 
Conciliation or concession are the only sure means of either 
gaining or retaining America." 

The Budget came up again in the Commons, May 14, 
1777, when Mr. Burke spoke nobly : — 

" He was, and ever would be, ready to support a just war, 
whether against subjects or alien enemies ; but where justice, 
or a color of justice, was wanting, he shovdd ever be the first 
to oppose it." 

All these declarations were crowned by Lord Chatham's 
motion in the Lords, May 30, 1777, to put a stop to 
American hostilities, when he spoke so wisely and 
bravely. 

" We have tried for unconditional submission : try what 
can be gained by unconditional redress We are the ag- 
gressors. We have invaded them. We have invaded them 

as much as the Spanish Armada invaded England 

In the sportsman's phrase, when you have found yourselves 

at fault, you must try back I shall no doubt hear it 

objected, ' Why should we submit or concede 1 Has America 
done anything, on her part, to induce us to agree to so large 
a ground of concession'?' I will tell you, my Lords, why I 
think you should. You have been the aggressors from the 

beginning If, then, tve are the aggressors, it is your 

Lordships* business to make the first overture. I say again, 
11) is country has been the aggressor. You have made de- 
scents upon their coasts ; you have burnt their towns, plun- 



Sl.AVi:i;V AND TIIK Mi:\l< AN U Ml. 3 17 

dared their country, made war upon the inhabitants, con- 
fisoated their property, proscribed and imprisoned their 
persons. T do therefore affirm, that, instead of exacting un- 
conditional submission from the Colonies, we should grant 
them unconditional redress. We have injured them; we 
have endeavored to enslave and oppress them. Upon this 
clear ground, instead of chastisement, they are entitled to 
redress." 

\ in Lord Chatham broke out, November L8, 1777, 
in words mosl applicable to the present occasion. 

" I would sell my shirt oft' my back to assist in proper 
measures, properly and wisdv conducted ; but I would not 
■part with a singlt shilling to tin present ministers. Their 

plans are founded in destruction and disgrace. It is, my 
Lords, a ruinous and destructive war ; it is full of danger; it 

teems with disgrace, and must end in ruin If I 

were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign 
troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down 
my arms ! — never ! — never ! — never ! "' 

The Duke of Richmond, in the Lords, on the same 
occasion, returned to the charge in a similar spirit, 

■ I an we too soon put a stop to such a scene of carnage ] 
My Lords, 1 know that what I am going to say is not fash- 
ionable language; but a time will come when every one of 
us must account to God for his actions, and how can we 
justify causing so many innocent lives to be lost]" 

In the Commons, December 5, 1777, Air. Eartley, 
the constant friend of America, brought forward a 
motion : — 

"That it is unbecoming the wisdom and prudence of Par- 
liament to proceed any farther in the support of this fruit- 
less, expensive, and destructive war. more especially without 
any specific terms of accommodation declared.'' 



348 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

The Marquis of Rockingham, in the Lords, February 
16, 1778, exclaimed : — 

" He was determined to serve his country by making peace 
at any rate." 

At last, in the Lords, March 23, 1778, the Duke of 
Richmond brought forward a motion for the withdrawal 
of the forces from America. 

The same question was presented again in the Com- 
mons, Xovember 27, 1780, on a motion to thank General 
Clinton and others for their military services in Amer- 
ica, when Mr. Wilkes laid down the true rule. 

" I think it my duty to oppose this motion, because in my 
idea every part of it conveys an approbation of the Ameri- 
can War, — a war unfounded in principle, and fatal in its 

consequences to this country Sir, I will not than/,- for 

victories which only tend to protract a destructive war As 

I reprobate the want of principle in the origin of the Ameri- 
can War, 1 the more lament all the spirited exertions of 
valor and the wisdom of conduct which in a good cause I 
should warmly applaud. Thinking as 1 do, I see more mat- 
ter of grief than of triumph, of bewailing than thanksgiv- 
ing, in this civil contest, and the deluge of blood which lias 

overflowed America I deeply lament that the lustre 

of such splendid victories is obscured and darkened by the 
want of a good cause, without which no war, in the eye of 
truth and reason, before God or man, can be justified." 

Mr. l'o\ followed in similar strain. 

"He allowed the merits of the officers now in question, but 
he made a distinction between thanks and praise. He might 
admire their valor, but he could not separate the intention 
from the action ; they were united in his mind ; there they 
formed one whole, and he would not attempt to divide them."' 

Mr. Sheridan joined in these declarations. 



SLAVER? AND THE MEXICAN wai:. 349 

"There were in that House different descriptions of men 
tele) could not assent (•> a vote that seemed to imply a recognition 
or approbation of tJfu American War." 

All these words are memorable from the occasion of 
their utterance, from the statesmen who uttered them, 
and from the sentiments avowed. The occasion was 
the war of Great Britain upon our fathers. The states- 
men were the greatest masters of political wisdom and 
eloquence that England has given to the world. The 
sentiments were all in harmony with what I have urged 
on the present occasion. Orators contended with each 
other in the strength of their Language. Lord Camden 
averred that "Civ, it Britain was the aggressor." The 
Duke of Grafton declared, that, "while he had a leg to 
stand on," he would express his "abhorrence" of the war. 
Chatham gave utterance to the same sentiment in one of 
his most magnificent orations. And Wilkes, Sheridan, 
Fox, and Burke echoed this strain, all insisting that the 
war was unjust, and must therefore be stopped. 

Thus far I have quoted testimonyfrom Parliamentary 
debates on our own Revolution; but going farther back, 
we find similar authority. When Charles the First sent 
assistance to the French against the Huguenots in Efco- 
ehelle, the ofiicers and men did more than murmur ; and 
here our authority is Hume. The commander of one 
of the ships "declared thai he would rather be hanged 
in England for disobedience than tight against his 
brother Protestants in France." 1 

They went back to the Downs. Having received new 
orders, they sailed again for France. 

•' When they arrived at Dieppe, they found that they had 
been deceived. Sir Ferdinando Gorges, who commanded one 
1 IIuiik-, History of England, Chap. L. 



350 SLAVERY AND THE MEXICAN WAR. 

of the vessels, broke through and returned to England. All 
the officers and sailors of all the other ships, notwithstanding 
great oilers made them by the French, immediately deserted. 
One gunner ah me preferred duty towards his king to the 
cause of religion, and he was afterwards killed in chareine 
a cannon before Kochelle." : 

The same sentiment prevailed also in the war upon 
Spain by Cromwell, when several naval officers, having 
scruples of conscience with regard to the justice of the 
war, threw up their commissions and retired. Here 
again Hume is our authority. 

" No commands, they thought, of their superiors could 
justify a war which was contrary to the principles of natural 
equity, and which the civil magistrate had no right to order. 
Individuals, they maintained, in resigning to the public their 
natural liberty, could bestow on it only what they themselves 
were possessed of, a right of performing lawful actions, and 
could invest it with no authority of commanding what is 
contrary to the decrees of Heaven." 2 

Here again it is soldiers who refuse to fight in unjust 
war. 

Such is the doctrine of morals sanctioned by English 
examples. Such should be the doctrine of an Ameri- 
can statesman. If we apply it to the existing exigen- 
cy, or try the candidates by this standard, Ave find, that, 
as Dr. Howe is unquestionably right, so Mr. Winthrop 
is too certainly wrong. Exalting our own candidate, I 
would not unduly disparage another. It is for the sake 
of the cause in which we are engaged, by the side of 
which individuals dwindle into insignificance, that we 
now oppose Mr. Winthrop, bearing our testimony against 

1 Hume, History of England, Chap. L. 

2 Ibid., Chap. LXL 



Sl.AVI.kV AMI Tllli MEXICAN AVAR. 351 

Slavery and the longer continuance of the Mexican 
War, demanding the retreat of General Taylor and the 
instant withdrawal of the American forces. Even if we 
seem to tail in this election, we shall not fail in reality. 
The influence of this effort will help to awaken and 
organize that powerful public "pinion by which this 
war will at last be arrested. 

Bang nut, fellow-citizens, the white banneT of Peace ; 
let the citizens of Boston rally about it ; and may it be 
borne forward by an enlightened, conscientious people, 
aroused to condemnation of this murderous war, until 
M \i.-o, now wxt with blood unjustly shed, shall repose 
undisturbed beneath its folds. 



INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

IX THE MASSACHUSETTS REGIMENT OF VOLUN- 
TEERS FOR THE MEXICAN WAR. 

Argument before the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, 
January, 1847. 



By the Mexican "War Bill (approved May 13, 184G) the President 
was authorized " to call for and accept the services of any number of 
volunteers, not exceeding fifty thousand," and provision was made for 
their organization. The Governor of Massachusetts, by proclamation, 
called for a Regiment in this Commonwealth, which was organized under 
the Act of Congress. Before it had left the Commonwealth, applica- 
tions for discharge were made to the Supreme Court of Massachusetts 
in behalf of several persons repenting their too hasty enlistment. At the 
hearing, the proceedings by which the Regiment had been organized 
were called in question. Their validity was denied on the ground that 
the Act of Congress, in some of its essential provisions concerning 
volunteers, was unconstitutional, — that the enlistments were not in 
conformity with the Act, — and also that the militia laws of Massachu- 
setts had been fraudulently used in forming the regiment. These 
points, and the further question, whether a minor is bound by his con- 
tract of enlistment under the Act, were argued by Mr. Sumner, who 
appeared as counsel for one of the petitioners. The Court sustained 
the validity of the proceedings, but discharged the minors. — See In lie 
Kimball, Murray, and Stone, 9 Law Reporter, 500, where the case is re- 
ported. 

May it please your Honors, 

11HIS cause lias a strong claim upon the careful con- 
_ sideratiorj of the Court, It comes with a 1ri,\o<hi 
neccssitas, a triple cord, to hind its judgment. Tt is 
importanl as respects the parties, the public, and the 
principles involved. 



1NVA1.I1M1V OF ENUSTMEU 353 

To the parties, it is one of the highest questions 
known to the law, being a question of human freedom. 
It is proposed to hold the petitioner in the servitude of 
the army for an indefinite space of time, namely, " for 
the duration of the war with Mexico." During aU this 
period, he will be subject to martial law, and to the 
Articles of War, with the terrible penalties of desertion. 
He will be under the command of officers, al whose 
won! he must move from place to place beyond the con- 
fines of the country, and perform unwelcome duties, in- 
volving his own life and the lives of others. 

To the public, it is important, as it is surely of espe- 
cial consequence, in whose hands is placed the power of 
life and death. The soldier is vested with extraordinary 
attributes. He is at times more than marshal or sheriff. 
He is also surrounded by the law with certain immunities, 
one of which is exemption from imprisonmenl for debt. 

It is important from the principles involved. These 
are the distinctions between the different kinds of mil- 
itary force under the Constitution of the United States, 
the constitutionality of the Act of Congress of May, 
1S4<">. and the legality of the enlistments under it. The 
determination of these questions will establish or annul 
the immense and complex Volunteer System now sel in 
motion. 

In a case of such magnitude, 1 shall be pardoned for 
dwelling carefully upon the differenl questions. In the 
course of my argument I h<>j>e to establish the following 
proposil ions. 

First. That the forces contemplated by the Act of 
May, 1 846, are a part of the " ;mny " of the United States, 
or its general military force, and not of the " milil ia." 

'////. That the part of the Act of Congress of L846 



354 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

providing for the officering of the companies is uncon- 
stitutional, and the proceedings thereunder are void. 

Tl, irdly. That the present contract is illegal, inasmuch 
as it is not according to the terms of the Statute, which 
prescribes that it shall be for " twelve months or the 
war," whereas it is "for the war" only. 

Fourthly. That it is illegal, being entered into by an 
improper use of the militia laws of Massachusetts, so as 
to be & fraud on those laws. 

Fifthly. That minors cannot be held by contract of 
enlistment under the present Act. 

I shall now consider these different propositions. 

First. The force contemplated by the Act of May, 
184G, is a part of the army of the United States, or of 
it- general military force, and not of the militia. 

It is called " volunteers" ; but on inquiry it will ap- 
pear that it has elements inconsistent with militia, while 
it wants elements essential to militia. 

Without stopping to consider what these elements are, 
it will be proper, first, to consider the powers of Congress 
over the land forces. Congress is not omnipotent, like 
the British Parliament. It can do only what is per- 
mitted by the Constitution of the United States, and in 
the manner 'permitted. We are, then, to search the Con- 
stitution. 

Here we find two different species of land forces, and 
only two. These are "armies" and "militia." There 
is between the two no hybrid or heteroclite, — no ter- 
t iii ni quid. 

These forces are referred to and sanctioned by the fol- 
lowing clause-, and by 1 ihers: "The Congress shall 

have power to raise and support armies; to provide for 
calling forth the militia to execute the laws of the Union, 



i mm B in l : M i:\n JAM WAB BILL. 355 

suppress insurrections, and repel invasions; to provide 
for organizing arming, and disciplining the militia,an.d 
for governing such pari of them as may be employed in 
the service of the United States, reserving to the States, 
respectively, the appointnu nt of the officers, and the author- 
ity of training the militia, according to the discipline 
prescribed by Congress." (Art. L § 8.) And again : 
'•The Presidenl shall be commande*r-in-chief of the 
army and navy of the United States, and of the militia 
of the several States, when called into the actual servict of 
tfo United States." (Art. [I. § 2.) 

It has been ably argued by Mr. Lanier, in the Virginia 
Assembly, that the distinction hetueen umnj and militia 
is, that the first stands on contract or voluntary enlistmi nt, 
ami the second on the law compelling parties to serve; 
that this simple test determines the character of the ser- 
vice, Did the party enter voluntarily or by operationof 
law ! [f voluntarily, then he is in the "army " ; if com- 
pulsorily, or by operation of law, then he is in the 
"militia." This distinction is palpable, and is true, I 
think, beyond (piotiun, with regard to the "army" and 
" militia " under existing laws. I am not prepared to 
say that Congress, undeT the clause authorizing it "to 
raise and support armies," may aot, following the example 
of other countries, enforce a conscription, or levy, which 
shall act compulsorily throughout the country, being in 
this respect like the militia, although unlike it in other 
respects. Sucha plan was recommended by Mr. Monroe, 
when Secretary of War, October 17, 1814, who speaks 
of it as follows. 

"The limited power which the United Si ites have in or- 
ganizing the militia may be urged as an argument ag 



356 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

their right to raise ret/n/ar troops in the mode proposed. If any 
argument could be drawn from that circumstance, I should 
suppose that it would be in favor of an opposite conclusion. 
The power of the United States over the militia has been 
limited, and that for raising regular armies granted with- 
out limitation. There was, doubtless, some object in this 
arrangement. The fair inference seems to be, that it was 
made on great consideration, — that the limitation in the 
first instance was intentional, the consequence of the unqual- 
ified grant of the second. 

'• Hut it is said, that by drawing the men from the militia 
service into the regular army and putting them under reg- 
ular officers you violate a principle of the Constitution which 
provides that the militia shall be commanded by their own 
officers. If this was the fact, the conclusion would follow. 
But it is not the fact. The men are not drawn from the 
militia, but from the population of the country. When they 
enlist voluntarily, it is not as militia-men that they act, but as 
citizens. If they are drafted, it must be in the same sense. 
In both instances they are enrolled in the militia corps; 
but that, as is presumed, cannot prevent the voluntary act 
in one instance or the compulsive in the other. The whole 
population of the United States, within certain ages, belong 
to these corps. If the United States could not form regular 
armies from them, they could raise none." 1 

IF Mi-. Monroe's views are sound, the "army" of the 
United Slates, as well us the "militia," may be raised 
by draft. It may consist of regulars and irregulars. 

Bui whatever may be the powers of Congress on this 
subject, it is certain that there is no legislation now in 
force, providing for the "army," except by means of 
voluntary enlistment. The whole army of the United 
States is, a1 present, an army of volunteers ; and all per- 

i Niles's Register, Vol. VI!. p. 189: Novembers, 1814. 



iMM.i; mi; Mi:\h an wau BILL. 357 

sons \vh<> are volunteers are of the army, and not of the 
militia. To call them volunteers does no1 take them 
out of the category of the "/•/////, 01 general military 
font' of the United Stales. 

Od the other hand, the militia, when in the service 
of the United states as militia, axe not m/ini/n /■■•<. The) 
come by drafl or conscription. This distinction is de- 
rived from England, to whom we are indebted for so 
much of our jurisprudence, and so many principles of 
constitutional law. We find from Blackstone (Vol.1. 
p. 412 , thai the English militia consists of "the in- 
habitants of the county, chosen by lot for three years." 
They are called "the constitutional security which the 
laws have provided for the public peace and for protect- 
ing the realm against foreign or domestic violence"; and 
"they are not compellable to march out of their counties, 
unless in case of invasion or actual rebellion within the 
realm, nor in any case compellable to march out of the 
kingdom? They are "officered by the lord-lieutenant, 
the deputy-lieutenants, and other principal landholders, 
under a commission from the crown." It will he ol>- 

ved, from this description, that there are four dis- 
tinct elements in the English militia. 1. It is in its 
nature a draft or conscription. 2. It is local in its 
character. -°>. It is otlicered hy persons in the county. 
4. It can be called out only on peculiar exigencies, 
expressly designated. In all these respects it is distin- 
guishable from what is called the army of England. 

Mr. Burke somewhere says that nearly half of the 
early editions of Blackstone's Commentaries found their 
way to America. The trainers of our Constitution were 
familiar with this work, and they have reproduced all 
these four features of the English militia, substituting 



358 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

u State " for " county," and adopting even the peculiar 
exigencies when they are compellable to march "out of 
the State." Thus following Blackstone, they have rec- 
ognized an " arm//" and a "militia" without any third 
or intermediate military body. 

This same distinction between the inilitia and army 
was recognized by Mr. Charles Turner, in the British 
Parliament, in a speech on the Bill for embodying the 
Militia, November 2, 1775. "The proper men," he says, 
"to recruit and supply //our troops are the scum and 
outcast of cities and manufactories : fellows who volun- 
tarily submit to be slaves by an apprenticeship of seven 
years are the proper persons to be miHtary ones. But 
to take the honest, sober, industrious fellow from the 
plough is doing an essential mischief to the community, 
and laying a double tax." 1 

Let us now apply these general considerations to the 
present case. 

The Act of May, 1846, recognizes a clear distinction 
between militia and volunteers. It authorizes the Pres- 
ident "to employ the militia, naval, and military forces 
of the United States, and to call for and accept the ser- 
vices of any number of volunteers, not exceeding fifty 
thousand, .... to serve twelve months after they shall 
have arrived at the place of rendezvous, or to the end of 
the war, unless sooner discharged." The next section 
(§ 2 provides that "the militia, when called into the 
service of the Tinted States by virtue of this Act or any 
other Act, may, it in the opinion of the President of the 
I 'mted States the puhlic interest requires it, be com- 
pelled to serve for a term not exceeding six months after 
their arrival at the place of rendezvous." The ninth 

i Hansard, Pari. Hist., Vol. XVIII. col. 846. 



DNDEB Tin: MEXICAN WAB hill. 359 

bion speaks of "militia 01 volunteers," referring to 
the two distinct classi 

Now on the (ace of this Art there arc al leasl two 
distincl recognitions that "volunteers' 1 arc not of the 
militia'. 1st, in providing for the employment of vol- 
unteers and also of militia, treating the two as distincl ; 
and, 2d, in providing thai the service for volunteers 
shall be " twelve months or the Mar," while that of the 
militia is " six months " only. 

There are other reasons. 1st, The volunteers do not 
come by draft, but by contract. 2d, Then, again, the 
Presidenl is expressly empowered to apportion the stall', 
held, and general officers among the respective States 
and Territories from which the volunteers shall tender 
their services, while, in the supplementary Act of June 
26, major-generals and brigadier-generals are to be ap- 
pointed by the President by and with the advice and 
consent of the Senate, all of which, notwithstanding 
the sop to the States in the apportionment provision, 
is inconsistent with the character of militia. 3d, An- 
other reason why these cannot be militia is, that no 
such exigency has occurred as authorizes the President 
to call tor the militia, — as, for instance, "to execute the 
laws of the Union, suppress insurrections, and repel in- 
vasions." 

Thus far I have sought to bring the proposed body 
of volunteers to the touchstone of the Constitution 
and laws of the United States. Let us now see how 
they conform to the Constitution and laws of Massachu- 
setts. 

1. By the Constitution of Massachusetts, the Gover- 
nor is (jommander-in-chief of the militia; but he can- 
not command these volunteers. 



3G0 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

2. By our Statu laws (Chap. 92, March 24, 1840) vol- 
unteers in the militia are "to do duty for five years"; 
while volunteers under the Act in question are for 
" twelve nit »nt lis or the war." 

3. " A uniform such as the commander-in-chief shall 
prescribe " is appointed for the volunteer militia, while 
volunteers under the Act are subject to no such regula- 
tion. 

4. The statute of 184G, chap. 218, § 10, provides that 
each company shall have "one first, one second, one 
third, and one fourth lieutenant." Mr. Secretary Mar- 
cy's recpiisition (p. 30 of Mr. Gushing' s Eeport 1 ) allows 
to each company " one first lieutenant and two second 
lieutenants." 

By provisions like these Massachusetts has marked 
her militia that she may know them. She tells them 
how they shall be apparelled and officered. But the 
body now called out is so apparelled and officered that 
the Commonwealth cannot recognize it as her militia. 

It seems clear, that, in the light of the Constitution 
and laws of the United States, and also of the Constitu- 
tion and laws of Massachusetts, this body cannot be a 
part of the mil Hid. 

Bui it is suggested on the other side that the com- 
panies qow raised may be regarded as companies of 
militia who volunteer as companies into the army of the 
United States; and it is urged that the requisitions of 
the Constitution are complied with, inasmuch as the 
officers of the regiment are commissioned by the Gov- 
ernor. To this it may be replied, thai the militia of the 

Commonwealth have certain speeiiie duties detailed in 
the statute on the subject Chap. 92, 1840). For instance 

i MasB. House Doc. 1817, No. 7. 



ONDEB tin: mi:\k ax war bill. 361 

(§ 23 . three parades in each year, ami inspection on tin' 
last Wednesday of Ma\ : ^ 24) an inspection and review 
in each year; ^ 27) and particularly to aid the p 
comitatua in case of riot. These all contemplate that 
they shall remain at home. Now it is nut to be ques- 
tioned, that, in any of the exigencies mentioned by the 
( lonstitutdon, they may be ordered from home, im th, man- 
ner 'prescribed by the Constitution and laws; but it cer- 
tainly cannot be allowable for a company of militia to 
volunteer as " company into a service inconsistent with 
thr duties 'prescribed by the laws wider which it is estab- 
lished. Adopting Mr. Monroe's distinction, the individ- 
uals can volunteer as citizens, but nol as a company. 

Let us try this point by an analogy. The Common- 
wealth by its Legislation (Eev. Stat., chap. L8) establishes 
companies of engine-men, who are to be appointed by 
the selectmen of towns, to protect from fires. Is it 
supposed that these companies can volunteer, as compa- 
nies, to enter the army of the United States, and go far 
away from the scene of the duties for which they were 
established? But the companies of militia are hardly 
less local and home-abiding in character than the com- 
panies of engine-men. It is impossible to suppose that 
they can volunteer as companies into the " army " of the 
United states. 

But Buppose, Eot the sake of argument, that companies 
of militia, as such, may volunteer into the sendee of the 
United States, under the Act of May, 1846, — do they 
continue to be militia? Clearly not. They are in no 
wi'.m- subject to the laws of Massachusetts. Her Gov- 
ernor, who was so unfortunately prompt to put them in 
motion, cannot recall them, although he is commander- 
in-chief of her militia. They have not her uniform. 

VOL. I. 16 



362 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

Their officers are not her officers, but officers of the 
I liitetl States. The corps has become part of the army 
of the United States, or of its general military force. 

And this is the legal character of the present Massa- 
chusetts Regiment, if it have any legal character. 

" If shape it may be called, that shape has none 
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb, 
Or substance may be called that shadow seems." 

It is part of the " army " of the United States, and not 
of the " militia." 

Second!//. It being established that it is not of the 
militia, but of the army, the way is prepared for the 
consideration of the other questions. The first of these 
relates to the constitutionality of part of the Act un- 
der which the regiment is raised. Looking at Captain 
Webster's return in the present case, it will be perceived 
that he claims to hold the petitioner "because the said 
Samuel A. Stone has been duly enrolled and enlisted as 
a member of Company A of the First Regiment of Mas- 
sachusetts Infantry, whereof the said Edward Webster 
has been duly commissioned Captain by his Excellency 
the Governor of this Commonwealth." On this ret inn 
we have a question of double aspect. 1. Has Edward 
Webster a right to detain the petitioner? 2. Is the pe- 
titioner liable to be detained by anybody? It is possi- 
ble that the petitioner may be liable, although Edward 
Webster has no righl to detain him. In other words, he 
may lie Legally enlisted as a soldier in the "army" of the 
United Stales, although Webster is not a legal officer. 

And, first, is Kdward Webster legally commissioned 
as "an officer of the United States"? This is an im- 
portant question, which concerns the validity of his acts. 
He should be anxious to know if he is a legal officer, 



I NDEB TllK .MF.XK'AX WAS BILL. 363 

thai he may nol bear the sword in vain. The attributes 
of a military officer are of a high order. Be lias power 
u\ er human life and property to an extraordinary degree. 
He has power at once executive and judicial ; he is sheriff 
and judge. In these peculiar powers he is distinguish- 
able tVi 'in common citizens. Such powers the Govern- 
ment can impart, — but only in certain ways precisely 

scribed by the Constitution ami laws, — only consti- 
tutionally, legally, and rightfully. And the question 
recurs, Have these powers been imparted in such wise 
to Edward WebsteT '. 

This is determined by the ('(institution of the United 
States. That instrument provides explicitly the man- 
ner of a J > | >' » i 1 1 1 i 1 1 ^ "officers of the United States." It 
says (Art. 2, § 2), "The President .shall nominate, and 
by and with the advice and consent of the Senate shall 
appoint, ambassadors, other public ministers, and consuls, 
judges of the Supreme Court, and all other officers of the 
United States whose appointments are not herein other- 
wise provided for, and which shall be established by 
law ; but the Congress may by law vest the appoint- 
ment of such inferior officers as they think proper in 
the President alone, iii the courts of law, or in the heads 
of departments." In the next clause it declares, that 
"the Presidenl shall have power to till up all vacancies 
thai may happen during the recess of the Senate, by 
granting commissions which shall expire at the end of 
their next session." 

From these clauses it appears that all "officer's of 
the Tinted States" are nominated, and by and with the 
advice and consent of the Senate are appointed, by the 
Presidenl ; and it is inferred that they are "commis- 
sioned " by the President 



3G4 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

Now two questions arise : whether an officer in the 
" army " of the United States is an " officer of the 
United States " in the sense of the Constitution, and 
whether he is an "inferior officer." 

He is nut an " inferior officer " in the sense of the 
Constitution; for his appointment has never been vested 
"in the President alone, in the courts of law, or in the 
heads of departments." 

He is an " officer of the United States." In support 
of this is universal custom, which has always treated 
him as such, the express action of President Monroe 
and Congress in 1821 with regard to the office of Ad- 
jutant-General (3 Story, Com. on Const, § 1531, note), 
and sundry precedents. 

I conclude, therefore, that Edward Webster, assuming 
to be an " officer of the United States," but not having 
been " nominated by the President, and by and with 
the advice and consent of the Senate appointed," nor 
being "commissioned" by the President, is not con- 
stitutionally an officer of the "army" of the United 
States, nor entitled to detain the petitioner. He is 
commissioned by the Governor of Massachusetts, who 
cannot give any power in the " army " of the United 
States. 

The question next arises, whether any person is 
authorized to detain the petitioner. Webster is not. 
Win. is? 

The petitioner has been mustered into the service of 
the United States, not as an individual citizen, but as 
a member of tlie company of which Webster assumes to 
be captain. If the company has no legal existence as 
a company, all the proeeedings are void. But the com- 
pany becomes such only through its officers. Until its 



l \l>i:i; THE MEXICAN WAS BILL 365 

officers are chosen, it is an embryo, uo1 a Legal body. 
Bui its officers never have been chosen in an\ consti- 
tutional way. The company is, therefore, still unborn. 
Or rather, to adopl the illustration of the Roman Tri- 
bune, tlic "belly" is produced, but the "head and 
hands " are wanting ; so that it is impossible to present 
a i omplete body. 

The conclusion is. that the petitioner is not liable 
to be held in the service of the United states. This 
stands upon the unconstitutionality of that part of the 
law of Congress relating to the peculiar organization 
of this corps. 

This -nine error Congress has committed before. The 
Art of February 24, 1807 (Statutes at Large, VoL II. 
p. 419), provides lor volunteers in companies, "whose 
commissioned oihcers shall be appointed in the manner 
prescribed by law in the several States and Territories 
to which such companies shall respectively belong." 
In the Act of February 6, 1812 (Statutes at Large, Vol. 
II. ]i. 676 , these words are repeated. But at a later day 
it seeins the mistake was discovered. By Hie Act of 
January 27, 1815, it is provided (§ 4) "that the officers 
of the said volunteers shall be commissioned by the 
President of the United States"; and also (§8) "that 
tie- appointment of the officers of the said volunteers, 
if received into the service of the United States for the 
term of twelve months, or for a longer term, shall be 
submitted to the Senate, for their advice and consent, at 
their next session after commissions for the same shall 
have hern issued." This bill was much considered in 
Congress. 1 Notwithstanding all this, the same error is 
repeated in the Act of May, L846. 

l See Niles's Register, Vol. VII. pp. 313, 333, 862. 



366 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

I submit, that it will be the duty of the Court to 
declare the Act of .May, so far as it relates to the or- 
ganization of the volunteers, unconstitutional, and all 
the proceedings under it a nullity. 

Thirdly. But if the law should be regarded as con- 
stitutional, it is further submitted that the proceedings 
under it in Massachusetts have been illegal in two re- 
spects : first, by the action of the National Government; 
and, secondly, by the action of the Commonwealth. 

At present we will consider the illegality on the part 
of the National Government. 

The Act of May provides for volunteers "to serve 
twelve months after they shall have arrived at the place 
of rendezvous, or to the end of the war, unless sooner 
discharged." But by the requisition of Mr. Secretary 
Marcy they are to serve " during the war with Mexico, 
unless sooner discharged," which is a different term 
from that in the law. 

The right to enlist soldiers is determined by the laws. 
Its exact extent is measured there. It is not dependent 
upon the judgment or conscience of any Secretary, — as 
if his foot were the standard of physical measure. The 
law expressly says, that the enlistment is to be for 
"twelve months or the war." Now it cannot have 
been the intention of Congress to obtain enlistments for 
the indefinite period of the war, — for ten years, like the 
Trojan War, or thirty years, like that of Wallenstein, in 
Germany. They wished to hold volunteers for twelve 
months, or even for a shorter time, if the war should be 
ended sooner; and at the time of this untoward Act it 
was supposed that it would be ended sooner. The mili- 
tia, in this Ait, are called out for "six months" only. 

By the Act of February 24, 1807 (Statutes at Large, 



rxiiF.K THE MEXICAN WAS BILL. 3G7 

Vol. II. p. 419 . the volunteers are " for the term of 
twelve months after they shall have arrived at the 

place of rendezvous, unless sooner discharged " ; and for 
the same term by the Acl of February 6, L812 (Vol II. 
p. 676 . Bu1 by the Act of February 24,1814 (Vol. III. 
p. 98 , the term was "five years, or during the war." By 
the An of January 27, L815 Vol. III. p. L93 , the tenn 
was "not Less than twelve months." By the Acl of Jan- 
uary 27, L814 Vol. III. p. 94 , the term of soldiers in the 
regular army was " five years, or during the war." I 
mention these precedents, to show thai this question 
may have arises before, although we have no reports of 
it from any judicial tribunal. Bu1 we have the expi 
opinion of the late Mr. Justice Johnson, of the Supreme 
Court of the United States, in a note to his elaborate Life 
of General Greene, written not long alter the Acts of 
Congress to which I have referred. It was printed in 
L822. Be says: " The point on which the Pennsylvania 
line really grounded their revolt was the same which has 
been more recently much agitated bet ween the American 
Government audits army. The soldiers were enlisted 
for a certain number of years, or the war. At the ex- 
piration of the term of years they demanded their dis- 
charge; and after resisting this just claim, and sustain- 
in- all the terrors and real dangers of a revolt, .... the 
Government was oMi^ed to acquiesce. For so many 
years or the war certainly meant for that time, if the 
war should so long last. Else why specify a term of 
years ? — as enlistments for the war would have expressed 
the sense of the contracting parties." (Vol. II. p. 53, 
note.) 

On the authority of Mr. Justice Johnson, the question 
seems to be clear. But if there be any doubt, the in- 



3G8 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

clination must be against the Government. They are 
the powerful and intelligent party ; the soldier is power- 
less and ignorant. The Government are the inviting, 
offering, promising party. To them applies the rule, 
Verba fortius accipiuntur contra proferentem. 1 

But it is said on the other side, that the " twelve 
months " have not yet expired ; and it does not follow 
that the volunteers will be detained beyond that period. 
But the case now is to be judged on the contract. Is the 
contract legal or illegal, under the Act of Congress ? It 
is submitted that it is illegal. 

Fourth///. I submit that the proceedings in Massachu- 
setts under the Act of March are illegal, inasmuch as 
they are a fraud upon the militia laws of the Common- 
wealth. This brings me to a part of the case humiliat- 
ing to Massachusetts. 

We have already seen the purpose of these laws, con- 
templating the performance of duties at home, — as, in 
preserving the peace, and aiding the posse com Hatns. 
These purposes are distinctly declared by the Legisla- 
ture. (< 'hip. 92, 1840.) But by the agency of State of- 
ficers these laws have been employed — I would say, pros- 
tituted — to a purpose widely different : not to help pre- 
serve the peace at home, but to destroy peace abroad. 
It appears from the communication of the Adjutant- 
General, that he resorted to the device or invention of 
using the militia laws of the State in order to enlist 
soldiers to make war on Mexico. The following is 
the form of an application to be organized as a com- 
pany of the Massachusetts militia, — the applicant ex- 
pressly setting forth objects inconsistent with the duties 
of the militia. 

1 Bacon, Maxims of the Law, Reg. III. 



DNDEB Till: MEXICAN W.\K BILL. 369 

" ( 'h LRLE8TOWN, January 1, 1847. 

•• To His Excellency, George .V. Briggs, Governor and Com 
mander-in-Chief of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. 

"Sir, — The undersigned, in behalf of himself and his as- 
ates, whose names are duly enrolled therefor, respectfully 
requests thai they may be duly organized as a company, to 
be annexed to the First Regimenl of Massachusetts Infantry : 
it being understood, that, when so organized, tin;/ desire <nt<l 
assent to be placed "t the disposal of the I'resiiltitt <>/ the Cnital 
States, to serve during the existing war with Mexico. And as 
in duty bound will ever pray. 

(Signed,) "John S. Barker." 

Tims the Executive of the Commonwealth placed all 
the apparatus and energy of the Adjutant-* reneral, and 
of the militia laws, at the service of certain petitioners, 
well knowing that these persons were not to enlist bona 
fidi in the honest militia of Massachusetts, but with 
the distind understanding that they should he placed 
at the disposal of the President of the United States, to 
Berve during the existing war with Mexico. I do not 
complain that the Governor or the Adjutant-General 
lent himself officially or personally to this purpose, 
though 1 have my regrets on this .score; but I do com- 
plain that the laws of Massachusetts are prostituted to 
this purpose. 

It has been decided by the Supreme Court of the 
United States, in Prigg v. Pennsylvania (16 Peters, 
539 , thai State officers are not obliged to enforce United 

States laws. The Nation must execute its laws by its 

own officers. Under the lead nf this decision, the he- is- 
lature of Massachusetts passed a law making it penal 
for State officers to arrest or detain in public buildings 

16* x 



370 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

any person for the reason that he is claimed as a fugitive 
slave (Act of L843, Chap. 69), although the Act of Con- 
gress of 1793 contemplates the action of State officers. 
By this legislation Massachusetts has clearly shown her 
determination to take advantage of the principle in 
Trigg's case. The Governor and the Adjutant-General, 
not heeding the spirit of our Commonwealth, made 
themselves recruiting officers of the United States, as 
much as if they had enlisted sailors for the ship-of-war 
Ohio, now lying in our harbor. 

How much soever this may be deplored, it forms no 
ground for any legal questioning of their acts. What 
they did, under the directions of an Act of Congress, as 
agi nts of the United States, would be legal, provided it 
was not forbidden by the laws of the State. But al- 
though they might volunteer as agents of the United 
States in raising troops for the Mexican War, acting 
under the law of Congress, they cannot employ tin State 
laws for this 'purpose. They cannot be justified in di- 
verting the laws of the State to purposes not originally 
contemplated by these laws, and inconsistent with their 
whole design and character. Such was the employ- 
ment of the militia laws of Massachusetts. These laws 
have been made by the Executive the instruments, the 
"decoy-ducks," to get together the Falstaff regiment 
whose existence is now drawn in question. The whole 
proceeding is a fraud on those laws. 

It is the duty of this Court, as conservators of the 
laws of the Commonwealth, bound to see that they 
receive no detriment, to guard them from such a per- 
version from their true and original purpose. This can 
be done only by annulling the proceedings that have 
taken place under them. 



DNDER Tin: mi:xhan wai; BILL. 3 i 1 

Such are the objections to the Legal character of the 
Massachusetts Regiment, [f either of these should pre- 
vail, theD the whole regimenl is virtually dissolved. 
It becomes a mere name. Stat nominis wmhra. Or it 
i- Left a mere voluntary association, without that quick- 
ening principle which is necessary to a military organ- 
ization under tin' Constitution ami laws of the United 
States. It is Like the monster Frankenstein, the crea- 
tion of audacious human hands, endowed with a human 
form, but wanting a soul. 

///. But suppose the Court should hesitate to 
pronounce the nullity of these proceedings, and should 
recognize the legal existence of the regiment, it then 
becomes important to determine whether there are any 
special circumstances in the case of the petitioner which 
will justify his discharge. The party that I represent 
is a minor, and as such entitled to his discharge. The 
question on this point I have reserved to the last, he- 
cause I wished to consider it after the inquiry whether 
the regiment was a part of the "army "or the "militia/ 1 
in order to disembarrass it of considerations that might 
arise from the circumstance that the militia laws em- 
brace minors. I assume now that the regiment, if it 
have any legal existence, is a part of the "army." 

The jurisprudence of all countries wisely provides a 
tin period of majority, at which persons are sup- 
posed to he able to make contracts. This by the Com- 
mon haw is the age of twenty-one. 

Now enlistment in the army of the United States 
i- a contract. The parties are volunteers, and the term 
implies contract. And the question arises, whether this 
contract is governed by the Common Law, so a- to he 
voidable when made by a minor, [s the circumsti 



372 INVALIDITY OF ENLISTMENTS 

that the contract is made with the Government any 
ground of exception ? If an infant were to contract 
with the Government to sell a piece of land, he would 
not he bound by it any more than if the contract were 
with a private person. Is the circumstance that the 
contract is military any ground of exception? If an 
infant were to contract to furnish military supplies to 
Government, he could not be held more than by any 
private individual. 

The rule of the Common Law as to the incapacity of 
infants is specific. An exception to it must be estab- 
lished by express legislation, — as, in the case of ca- 
pacity to make a will, to marry, or to serve in the mili- 
tia. Congress has recognized this principle by expressly 
declaring, on several occasions, that persons between the 
ages of eighteen and twenty-one may be enlisted. The 
argument from this is clear, that without express pro- 
vision such enlistments would not lie binding. The Acts 
of January 11, LSI 2 (Statutes at Large, Vol. II. p. 671), 
and December 10, 1814 (Ibid., Vol. III. p. 146), contain 
such provisions. And we are able from contemporary 
history to ascertain what was the understanding con- 
cerning them. I refer particularly to Niles's Register, 
Vol. III. p. 207, and the discussion there on the first 
of these Acts; also to Vol. VII. p. 308, where will be 
found an important document making this legislation 
of Congress a special subject of complaint. 

It is argued, however, that the United States have no 
Common Law, and cannot, therefore, be governed by the 
rules of majority therein established. Although it may 
be decided thai the United States have no ( 'em men Law 
as a source of jurisdiction, yel if cannot be questioned 
that they have a, Common Law so far as may be neces- 



UNDER THE MEXICAN WAB BILL. 373 

sary in determining the signification of words and the 
capacity of persons, [diots and femes-coverts would 
qo1 be held as volunteers in the army of the United 
States; bnl their capacity is determined by the Com- 
mon Law, and qo1 by any special Legislation. 

I conclude, therefore, that the contract of enlistment 
in tins regimenl may be avoided by a minor. 

It may be in the power of the Court to discharge the 
petitioner without passing upon nil the grave questions 
which 1 have now presented. But I confidently sub- 
mit, that, if these proceedings are unconstitutional and 
illegal, as I have urged, if the regimenl is a nullity, 
as I believe, the truth should be declared. The regi- 
ment is soon to embark for foreign war, when its mem- 
bers will he beyond the kindly protection of this Court. 
It will be for the Court to determine whether it may 
not, by a just judgment, vindicate the injured laws of 
Massachusetts, and discharge many fellow-citizens from 
obligations imposed in violation of the Constitution and 
laws of the land. 



WITHDRAWAL OF AMERICAN TROOPS 
FROM MEXICO. 

Speech at a Public Meeting in Faneuil Hall, Boston, 
February 4, 1847. 



Hon. Samuel Greele presided at this meeting. The other speakers, 
besides Mr. Sumner, were Rev. James Freeman Clarke, Hon John 
M. Williams, Rev. Theodore Parker, Elizur Wright, and Dr. Walter 
Clianning. There was interruption at times from lawless persons try- 
ing to drown the voice of the speaker. One of the papers remarks, that 
" a number of the volunteers were among the most active." 

Mr. Chairman and Fellow-Citizens, — 

IN" the winter of 1775, five years after what was called 
the " massacre" in King Street, now State Street, a 
few months only before the Battles of Lexington and 
Bunker 1 1 ill, Boston was occupied by a British army un- 
der General Gage, — as Mexican Monterey, a town not 
far from the size of Boston in those days, is now occu- 
pied by American troops under General Taylor. The 
people of Boston i'elt keenly all the grievance of this 
garrison, holding the control of Massachusetts Bay with 
iron hand. With earnest voice they called for its with- 
drawal, as the beginning of reconciliation and peace. 
Their remonsl ranees found unexpected echo in the House 
of Lords, when bind Chatham, on the 20th of January, 
brought forward his memorable motion for the with- 
drawal of the troops from Boston. Josiah Quincy, Jr., 
dear to Bost.onia.ns for his own services, and for the ser- 
vices of his descendants in two generations, was present 



WHHDEAWA1 OF TBOOPS FROM MEXICO. 375 

on this occasion, and has preserved an Interesting and 
authentic sketch of Lord Chatham's speech. From his 
rejaort 1 take the following important words. 

"There ought to be no delay in entering upon this matter. 
We ought to proceed toil immediately. We ought to Beize the 
lir-t moment to open the door of reconciliation. The Ameri- 
cans will uever be in a temper or state to be reconciled, — 
they ought uot to be, -till the troops are withdrawn. The 
troops arc a perpetual irritation to these people ; they are a bar 
tu all confidence ami all cordial reconcilement. I, therefore, 
my Lords, move, 'That an humble address he presented to 
His Majesty, most humbly to advise and beseech His Majesty, 
that, in order to open the way towards an happy settlement 
dt' the dangerous troubles in America, by beginning to allay 
ferments anil soften animosities there, ami above all for pre- 
venting in the mean time any sudden and fatal catastrophe 
at Boston, now Buffering under the daily irritation of mi army 
before their eyes, posted in their town, it may graciously 
please His Majesty//"'/ immediate orders maybe despatched 
to <<■!'• i-'il Gage for removing His Majesty's forces from the 
town of Boston, as soon as the rigor of the season, and other 
circumstances indispensable to the safety and accommodation 
of the said troops, may render the same practicable.' Hl 

It is to promote a similar measure of justice and recon- 
ciliation that we are now assembled. Adopting the lan- 
guage of ( 'hat hum, wo ask t he cessation of this unjust war, 
and the withdrawal of the American forces from -Mex- 
ico, "as soon us the rigor of the season, and other circum- 
stances indispensable to the safety and accommodation 
of the said troops, may render the same practicable." 

It is Imped thai this movement will extend throughout 
the country, but it is propeT thai it should begin here. 
Boston herself in former times suffered. The war-horse 

1 Life of Josiah Quincy, Jr., p. 320. 



376 WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 

Mas stalled in one of her most venerable churches. Her 
streets echoed to the tread of hostile troops. Her inhabi- 
tants were waked 1 >y the morning drum-beat of oppressors. 
On their own narrow peninsula they have seen the smoke 
of an enemy's cam]). Though these things are beyond the 
memory of any in this multitude, yet faithful History 
has entered them on her record, so that they can never 
be forgotten. It is proper, then, that Boston, mindful of 
the past and of her own trials, mindful of her own plead- 
ings for the withdrawal of the British troops, as the be- 
ginning of reconciliation, should now come forward and 
ask tor others what she once so earnestly asked for herself. 
It is proper that Boston should confess her obligations to 
the generous eloquence of Chatham, by vindicating his 
arguments of policy, humanity, and justice, in their ap- 
plication to the citizens of a sister Republic. Franklin, 
in dispensing a charity, said to the receiver, "When you 
are able, return this, — not to me, but to some one in 
need, like yourself now." In the same spirit, Boston 
should now repay her debt by insisting on the with- 
drawal of the American troops from Mexico. 

( M her considerations call upon her to take the lead. 
Boston has always led the generous actions of our his- 
tory. Boston led the cause of the Revolution, llerecom- 
meneed that discussion, pregnant with independence, 
which, at first oceupyinga few warm, but true spirits only, 
finally absorbed all t he best energies of the continent, the 
eloquence of Adams, the patriotism of Jefferson, the 
wisdom of Washington. Boston is the home of noble 
charities, the nurse of true learning, the city of churches. 
By all these tokens she stands conspicuous ; and other 
parts of the country are not unwilling to follow her ex- 
ample. .Athens was called " the eye of Greece." Boston 



WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 377 

may be called " the eye of America " ; and the influence 
which she exerts proceeds not from size, — for there are 

oilier cities largerfar, — bu1 from moral and intellectual 
character. It is only just, then, that a town foremost 
in the struggles of the Revolution, foremost in all the 
humane and enlightened labors of our country, should 
take the Lead now. 

The war in which the United States are engaged has 
been from this platform pronounced unconstitutional 
Such was the judgment of him who has earned the title 
of Defender of the Constitution. Would that, instead 
of innocuous threat to impeach its alleged author, he 
had spoken in the spirit of another time, when, brand- 
ing an appropriation as unconstitutional, he boldly said 
he would not vote for it, if the enemy were thunder- 
ing at the gates of the Capitol! 

Assuming that the war commenced in violation of the 
Constitution, we have ample reason for its arrest on this 
account alone. Of course the troops should be with- 
drawn to where they were, when, in defiance of the 
Constitution, they moved upon disputed territory. 

But the war is not only unconstitutional, it is unjust, 
and it is vile in object and character. It had its origin 
in a well-known series of measures to extend and per- 
petuate Slavery. It is a Mar which must ever be odious 
in history, beyond the outrages of brutality which dis- 
grace other nations and times. It is a slave-driving 
war. In principle it is only a little above those miser- 
aide conflicts between barbarian chiefs of Central Africa 
to obtain slaves tor the inhuman markets of Brazil 
Such a war musl be accursed in the sight of Chid. Why 
is it not accursed in the Bighl of man ? 

We are told that the country is engaged in the war, 



378 WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 

and therefore it must be maintained, or, as it is some- 
times expressed, vigorously prosecuted. In other words, 
the violation of the Constitution and the outrage upon 
justice sink out of sight, and we are urged to these same 
acts again. By what necromancy do these pass from 
wrong to right I In what hook of morals is it written, 
that what is bad before it is undertaken becomes righteous 
merely from the circumstance that it is commenced ? 
Who on earth is authorized to transmute wrong into 
right ? Whoso admits the unconstitutionality and injus- 
tice of the war, and yet sanctions its prosecution, must 
approve the Heaven-defying sentiment, " Our country, 
right or wrong." Can this be the sentiment of Boston ? 
If so, in vain are her children nurtured in the churches 
of the Pilgrims, in vain fed from the common table of 
knowledge bountifully supplied by our common schools. 
Who would profess allegiance to wrong ? Who would 
deny allegiance to right ? Bight is one of the attributes 
of God, or rather it is part of his Divinity, immortal as 
himself. The mortal camiot be higher than the immortal. 
Had this sentiment been received by our English de- 
fenders in the war of the Revolution, no fiery tongue of 
Chatham, Burke, Fox, or Camden would have been heard 
iu our behalf, Their great testimony would have failed. 
All would have been silenced, while crying that the coun- 
try, right or wrong, must be carried through the war. 

Here is a gross confusion of opposite duties in cases of 
deft nee and of offt rice. When a country is invaded, its soil 
pressed by hostile footsteps, its churches desecrated, its 
inhabitants despoiled of homes, its national life assailed, 
then the indignanl spirit of a free people rises to repel 
the aggressor. Such an occasion challenges all the ener- 
gies of self-defence. It has about it all that dismal glory 



WITHDRA.WAI OF TBOOPS EBOM MEXICO. 379 

which can be earned in Bcenes of human strife. Bu1 it'it 
be righl to persevere in defence,ii must be wrong to per- 
severe in offi nee. 1 1' the Mexicans are righl in defending 
their homes, we certainly are wrong in invading them. 

The presenl war is offensive in essence. As such it 
loses all shadow of title to support. The acts of cour- 
age and hardihood which in a just cause might excite 
regard, when performed in an unrighteous cause, have 
no quality that ran commend them to virtuous sympa- 
thy. The victories of aggression and injustice are a 
grief and shame. Blood wrongfully shed cries from 
the ground drenched with the fraternal tide. 

The enormous expenditures lavished upon this war, 
now extending to fifty millions of dollars, — we have 
been told recently on the floor of the Senate that they 
were near one hundred millions, — are another reason 
for its cessation. The soul sickens at the contempla- 
tion of this incalculable sum diverted from purposes 
of usefulness and beneficence, from railroads, colleges, 
hospitals, schools, and churches, under whose genial in- 
fluences the country would blossom as a rose, and des- 
ecrated to the wicked purposes of unjust war. In any 
righteous self-defence even these expenditures would 
be readily incurred. The saying of an early father 
of the Republic, which roused its enthusiasm to un- 
wonted pitch, was, " Millions for Defence, not a cent 
for Tribute." Another sentiment more pertinent to our 
times would be, " Not a ceni for Offence." 

And why is this war to be maintained? According 
to the jargon of the day, " to conquer a peace." But if 
we ask for peace in the spirit of peace, we must begin by 
doing ju.stice to Mexico, "We are the aggressors, We 

are now in the wrong. "We must do all in our power 



380 WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 

to set ourselves right. This surely is not by brutal 
efforl to conquer Mexico. Our military force is so far 
greater than hers, that even conquest must be without 
the wretched glory which men covet, while honor is 
impossible from successful adherence to original acts of 
wrong. "To conquer a peace" may have a sensible 
signification, when a nation is acting in self-defence; 
but it is base, unjust, and atrocious, when the war is of 
offence. Peace in such a war, if founded on conquest, 
must be the triumph of injustice, the consummation of 
wrong. It is unlike that true peace won by justice or 
forbearance. It cannot be sanctioned by the God of 
Christians. To the better divinities of heathenism it 
would be offensive. It is of such a peace that the Bom an 
historian, whose pen is as keen as a sword's sharp point, 
says, " Auferre, trucidare, rapere, falsis nominibus, Im- 
PERIUM ; atque, ubi solitudincm faciunt, PACEM appel- 
lant " : With lying names, they call spoliation, murder, 
and rapine, Empire; and when they have produced the 
desolation of solitude, they call it Peace? 

The present course of our country, I have said, is op- 
posed to those principles which govern men in private 
life. Few, if any, of the conspicuous advocates for the 
maintenance of this war would hesitate, if found wrong in 
any private transaction, to retreat at once. With proper 
apoL igy thi sy would repair their error, while they recoiled 
from llic very suspicion of perseverance. Such should 
be the conduct of the Nation ; for it cannot be said too 
often, that the general rules of morals arc the same for 
individuals and states. "A commonwealth," says Milton, 
"ought to be but as one huge Christian personage, one 
mighty growth and stature of an honest man, as big and 

1 Tacitus, Agricola, c. 30. 



WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 381 

compact in virtue as La body. For look what the grounds 
and causes are of single happiness to one man, the same ye 
shall find them to a \\ hole stale ; by consequence, there- 
fore, thai which is good and agreeable to the state will 
appear soonesl to be 30 by being good and agreeable to 
the true welfare of every Christian, and thai which can be 
justly proved hurtful and offensive to every true chris- 
tian will be evinced to be alike hurtful to the state." 1 

I adopl the sentiments of Milton, and ask, Is not per- 
severance in wrong-doing hurtful and offensive to every 
Christian ? Is not perseverance in wrong-doing hurtful 
and offensive to every Christian commonwealth ? And 
is it not doubly so, when the opposite party is weak 
and the offender strong '. 

There are other considerations, arising from our fel- 
lowship with Mexico, which plead for her. She is our 
neighbor and sister republic, who caughl her first im- 
pulse to independence from our example, rejecting theen- 
- of royalty to follow simpler, purer forms. She has 
erred often, and suffered much, under the rule of selfish 
and had men. But she is our neighbor and sister still, en- 
titled to the rights of neighborhood and sisterhood. Many 
of her citizens are well known in our country, where they 
established relations of respect and amity. One of them, 
General Almonte, her recent minister at Washington, was 
a favored -nest in the social circles of the, capital. He 
is personally known to many who voted the supplies for 
this cruel war upon his country. The representative from 
Boston refers to him in terms of personal regard. AA- 
dressing any of these friends, howjustly mighl this Mex- 
ican adopl the words of Franklin, in his remarkable letter 
to Mr. Strahan, of the British Parliament! 

1 Of Reformation in England, Book II.: I'm-,- Works, Vol. I. \>. 29. 



382 WITHDRAWAL OF TROOPS FROM MEXICO. 

" Philadelphia, 5 July, 1775. 
" Mr. Strahan, — You are a member of Parliament, and 
one of that majority which doomed my country to destruc- 
tion. You have begun to burn our towns and murder our 
people. Look upon your hands: they are stained with the 
blood of your relations / You and I were long friends : you 
are now my enemy, and I am yours, 

" B. Franklin." » 

The struggle in Mexico against the United States, and 
that of our fathers against England, have their points of 
resemblance. Prominent among these is the aggressive 
character of the proceedings, in the hope of crushing a 
weaker people. But the parallel fails as yet in an im- 
portant particular. The injustice of England roused her 
most distinguished sons, in her own Parliament, to call 
for the cessation of the war. It inspired the eloquence 
of Chatham to those strains of undying fame. In the Sen- 
ate of the United States there is a favorite son of Massa- 
chusetts, to whom has been accorded powers unsurpassed 
by those of any English orator. He has now before him 
the cause of Chatham. His country is engaged in un- 
righteous war. Join now in asking him to raise his elo- 
quent voice in behalf of justice, and of peace founded 
on justice; and may the spirit of Chatham descend upon 
him ! 

Let us call upon the whole country to rally in this 
cause. And may a voice go forth fromFaneuil Hall to- 
night, awakening fresh echoes throughout the valleys of 
Now England/ — swelling as it proceeds, and gathering 
now reverberations in its ample volume, — traversing the 
whole land, ami still receiving other voices, till it reaches 
our rulers at Washington, ami, in tones of thunder, de- 
mands the cessation of this unjust war! 

i Works, ed. Sparks, Vol. VIII. p. 155. 



WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBARA 
STATES. 

A Lecture before tiik Boston Mercantile Library Association, 
February 17, 1847. 



Mutato nomine, de tc 
Fabula oarratur.— Bor. Sat. I. i. 69, 70. 

And thinkest thou this, man, that judgest them which do such thiDgs, 
and doe>t the same, that thou shall escape the judgment of God? — 

Jiom. ii. 3. 

There are individuals in the United States who hold more of their fel- 
itures in slavery than either of the Barbary Powers. — Bumphbei >. 
Valedictory Discourse before the Cincinnati of Connecticut, p. 34. 



This was another attempt to expose Slavery before a promiscuous audi- 
ence at a time when the subject was too delicate to be treated directly. 
Mr. Sumner commenced in the course at Boston, and afterwards gave the 
substance of his Lecture before many of the Lyceums of Massachusetts. 
Professedly historical in character, and carefully avoiding any discussion of 
slavery in our country, it escaped "censure," although jealous defenders 
of compromise wen- disturbed. Others were pleased to find their sentiments 
against slavery represented in the lecture-room. 

It was easy to see, that, under the guise of condemning the slavery of 
whites, he condemned the slavery of blacks. While showing how the first 
came to prevail, he naturally exposed the origin of all slavery; nor does tie 
for a moment Lose sight of slavery among us, which is constantly present 
under an alias. The outrage is exhibited not only in its original wrong and 
oppression, but in the constant efforts against it by all civilized nation-, 
sometimes by ransom, sometimes by war, ending at last in bloody over- 
throw. Conspiracies and escapes are described. At that time there was 
intense interest in fugitive slaves, which was gratified by the stories here 
introduced, -bowing how human sympathies attend all seeking freedom. 
Elsewhere, as well as here, the North Star had been :i guide. It was common 
to doubt the hardships of slavery in our country; but there were persons 
who doubted the hardships of slavery in the Barbary States. Nothing more 
common among compromisers than to say that our slaves did not de-ire free- 
dom, and that they were better off than \'wr negroes; but there wen- per- 
sons, professing to know the condition of the Barbary States, who insisted 
that there were white -laves who left with regret, and that they were better 
off than free Christians there. Tims at each pointis this historical lecture 
an argument against Slavery, and an answer to its defenders. 



LECTURE. 



HISTORY is sometimes called a gallery, where are 
exhibited scenes, events, and characters of the 
Past It may also be called the world's greal charnel- 
honse, where are gathered coffins, dead men's bones, and 
;ill the ancleanness of years that have fled. Tims is it 
both an example and a warning to mankind. Walking 
among its pictures, radiant with the inspiration of virtue 
and of freedom, we thrill with new impulse to beneficenl 
exertion, Groping amidst unsightly shapes without an 
epitaph, we may at least derive fresh aversion to all their 
living representatives. 

In this mighty gallery, amidst angelic light, are the 
benefactors of mankind, — poets who have sung the 
praise of virtue, historians who have recorded its achieve- 
ments, and the g I of all time, who, by word or deed, 

have striven for the welfare of others. Here are those 
scenes where the godlike in man is made manifesl in 
trial and danger. Here also are those grand pictures 
exhibiting the establishment of free institutions: the 
signing of Magna Charts with its priceless privileges, l>y 
a reluctant monarch; and the signing of the Declara- 
tion of Independence, announcing the inalienable rights 
of man, by the fathers of our Republic. 

< >n the other hand, in ignominious confusion, far 

VOL. I. 17 V 



386 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

down in this dark, dreary charnel-house, is tumbled all 
that now remains of the tyrants, the persecutors, the 
selfish men, under whom mankind have groaned. Here 
also, in festering, loathsome decay, are monstrous insti- 
tutions or customs, which the earth, weary of their in- 
famy and wrong, has refused to sustain, — the Helotism 
of Sparta, the Serfdom of Christian Europe, the Ordeal 
by Battle, and Algerine Slavery. 

From this charnel-house let me draw forth one of 
these. It may not be without profit to dwell on the 
origin, history, and character of a custom, which, after 
being for a long time a by-word and a hissing among 
the nations, is at last driven from the world. The easy, 
instinctive, positive reprobation which it will receive 
from all must necessarily direct our judgment of other 
institutions, yet tolerated in defiance of justice and hu- 
manity. I propose to consider the subject of White 
Sinn rn in Algiers, or, perhaps it may be more appro- 
priately called, Wliite Slavery in tin- Barbary States. As 
Algiers was its chief seat, it seems to have acquired 
a currenl name from that place. Xevertheless I shall 
proceed to speak of White Slavery, or the Slavery of 
Christians, throughout the Barbary States. 

This subjecl may fail in interest, but not in novelty. 
I am not aware of any previous attempt to combine its 
scattered materials. 

TERRITORY OF THE BARBARY STATES. 

The territory now known as the Barbary States is 
memorable in history. Classical inscriptions, broken 
arches, and ancient tombs — the memorials of various 
ages — still bear interesting witness to the revolutions 



WHIT! SLAVERY IN THE BARBAE! STATES. 387 

it has undergone. 1 Early Greek Legend made it the 
home of terror and of happiness. Here was the re- 
treat of the Gorgon, with snaky tresses, turning all Bhe 
looked upou into stone; and here also the Garden of 
the Hesperides, with apples of gold. It was the scene 
of adventure and mythology. Here Hercules wrestled 
with Antaeus, and Atlas sustained, with weary shoulders, 
the overarching sky. At an early day Phoenician fugi- 
tives transported the spirit of commerce to its coasts; 
and Carthage, which these wanderers planted, became 
mistress of the seas, explorer of distant regions, rival 
ami victim of Rome. Here for a while the energy and 
subtlety of Jugurtha baffled the Roman power, till 
at last the whole region, from Egypt to the Pillars* of 
Hercules, underwent the process of "annexation" to 
the cormorant republic of ancient times. A thriving 
population and fertile soil rendered it an immense 
granary. It was filled with ancient cities, one of which 
was the refuge and the grave of Cato, fleeing from the 
usurpations of Caesar. At a later day Christianity was 
here preached by saintly bishops. The torrent of the 
Vandals, first wasting Italy, passed this way ; and the 
arms of Belisarius here obtained their most signal 
triumphs. The Saracens, with the Koran and the 
sword, declared ministers of conversion, nexl broke from 
Arabia, as messengers of a new religion, ami, pouring 
along these shores, diffused the faith and doctrines of 
Mohammed. Their empire was not confined even by 
these expansive limits, hut. under Musi, entered Spain, 
and afterwards at Roncesvalles, in "dolorous rout," 

1 The classical student will be gratified and surprised by the remaii 
antiquity described by Or. Shaw, English chaplain at Algiers in the 
of George the First, in his "Travels, or Observations relal 
Parte of Barbary ami the Levant," published in 1738. 



388 "WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

overthrew tlie embattled chivalry of the Christian world 
miller ( lharlemagne. 

The Saracenic power did not long retain its unity 
or importance; and as we discern this territory in the 
dawn of modern history, when the countries of Europe 
are appearing in their new nationalities, we recognize 
five different communities or states, Morocco, Algiers, 
Tunis, Tripoli, and Barca, the last of little moment 
and often included in Tripoli, the whole constituting 
what was then, and is still, called the Barbary States. 
This name has sometimes been referred to the Berbers, 
or Berebbers, constituting part of the inhabitants; hut 
I delight to follow the classic authority of Gibbon, who 
thinks that the term, first applied by Greek pride to 
all strangers, and finally reserved for those only who 
were savage or hostile, justly settled, as a local de- 
nomination, along the northern coast of Africa. 1 The 
Barbary States, then, bear their past character in their 
name. 

They occupy an important space on the earth's sur- 
face : on the noil]) washed by the Mediterranean Sea, fur- 
nishing such opportunities for prompl intercourse with 
Southern Europe that Cato was able to exhibit in the 
Roman Senate figs freshly plucked in the gardens of 
Carthage ; bounded on the east by Egypt, on the west by 
the Atlantic Ocean, and on the south by the vast, mys- 
terious, sandy, flinty waste of Sahara, separating them 
from Soudan or Negroland. In advantage of position 
they surpass every other part of Africa, — unless we 
except Egypt, — communicating easily with the Chris- 
tian nations, ami t lms, as it were, touching the very hem 
and border of civilizal ion. 

i Decline and Tall of the Roman Empire, Chap. LI. Vol. IX. p. 4G5. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BABBABY STATES. 389 

Climate adds attractions to this region, which la re- 
moved from tin' cold of the north and the burning heal 
of the tropics, while it is enriched with oranges, citrons, 
olives, figs, pomegranates, and luxuriant flowers. Its 
position and character invite a singular and suggestive 
comparison. It is placed between the twenty-fifth and 
thirty-seventh degrees of north latitude, occupying nearly 
the same parallels with the Slave States of our Union. 
It extends over nearly the same number of degrees of 

longitude With OUT Slave States, which seem lluw, alas [ 

to stretch from the Atlantic Ocean to the Rio Grande. 
It is supposed to embrace about 7o<i,i)ii() square miles, 
which cannot be far from the space comprehended by 
what may be called the Barbary States of America.* 
Nor >\<>r* the comparison end here. Algiers, for a long 
time the must obnoxious place in the Barbary States of 
Africa, the chief seat of Christian slavery, and once 
branded by an indignant chronicler as "the wall of the 
barbarian world," is situated near the parallel of 36 30 
north latitude, being the line of what is termed the 
.Mi— Mini Compromise, marking the "wall" of Christian 
slavery in our country, wesl of the Mississippi 

Other less important points of likeness occur. They 
are each wa>hed, to the same extent, by ocean and sea, 
— with this difference, thai the two are thus exposed 
on directly opposite coasts: the African Barbary being 
water-bounded on the north and west, and our Ameri- 
can Barbary on the south and east. Bui there are no 
two Bpaces on the globe, of equal extent, (and geo- 
graphical testimony will verify what I am 
which present so many distinctive features of resem- 

1 Jefferson, without recognizing the genera] parallel, alludes to Virginia 
a> fast shikinjz to !"■ "the Barbary of the Union." — Memoir, Correspond- 
ence, etc., ed. T. J. Randolph, VoL IV. pp. 333, 334. 



390 "WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

blance, whether we consider the parallels of latitude on 
which they lie, the nature of their boundaries, their pro- 
ductions, their climate, or the " peculiar domestic insti- 
tution " which has sought shelter in both. 

I introduce these comparisons that I may bring home 
to your minds, as nearly as possible, the precise position 
and character of the territory which was the seat of the 
evil I am about to describe. It might be worthy of 
inquiry, why Christian slavery, banished at last from 
Europe, banished also from that part of this hemisphere 
which corresponds in latitude to Europe, should have 
intrenched itself in both hemispheres between the same 
parallels of latitude, so that Virginia, Carolina, Missis- 
sippi, and Texas should be the American complement 
to Morocco, Algiers, Tripoli, and Tunis. Perhaps com- 
mon peculiarities of climate, breeding lassitude, indolence, 
and selfishness, may account for that insensibility to the 
claims of justice and humanity which have characterized 
both regions. 



ILLUSTRATIONS OF WHITE SLAVERY. 

The revolting custom of White Slavery in theBarbary 
States was for many years the shame of modem civil- 
ization. The nations of Europe made constant efforts, 
continued through successive centuries, to procure its 
abolition, and also to rescue their subjects from its fear- 
ful doom. These may be traced in diversified pages of 
history, and in authentic memoirs. Literature affords 
Illustrations which must not be neglected. At one 
period, the French, the Italians, and the Spaniards 
borrowed the plots of their stories from this source. 1 

i Sismondi, Literature- of the South of Europe, Chap. XXIX. Vol. IU. p. 402. 



WHITE M.WT.KY IN THE BARBAE! STATES. 391 

The adventures of Robinson Crusoe make our child- 
hood familiar with one of its tonus. Among his early 

trials was his piratical capture by a rover from Sallee,a 
port of Morocco on the Atlantic Ocean, and reduction 
to slavery. "At this surprising change of my circum- 
stances/ 1 says Crusoe, "from a merchant to a miserable 
slave, I was perfectly overwhelmed; ami now I looked 
back upon my father's prophetic discourse to me, that I 
should l>c miserable ami have none to relieve me, which 
I thought was now so effectually brought to pass that it 
could not be worse." And Cervantes, in the story of Don 
Quixote, over which so many generations have shaken 
with laughter, turns aside from its genial current to give 
the narrative of a Spanish captive who had escaped 
from Algiers. The author is supposed to have drawn 
from his own experience; for during rive years and a 
half he endured the horrors of Algerine slavery, from 
which lie was finally liberated by a ransom of less than 
seven hundred dollars. 1 This inconsiderahle sum of 
money — scarcely the price of an ordinary African slave 
in our own Southern states — gave to freedom, to his 
country, and to mankind the author of Don Quixote. 

In Cervantes freedom gained a champion whose ef- 
forts entitle him to grateful mention on this threshold 
of our inquiry. Taught in the school of slavery, he 
knew how to commiserate the slave. The unhappy 
Condition of his fellow-Christians in chains was ever 
uppermost in his mind. He lost no opportunity of 
inciting attempts for their emancipation, and for the 

1 The exact amount in our money i» left uncertain both by Smollett and 
Boscoo. in their Uvea of Cervantes. It appears that it was five hundred gold 
crowns of Spain, which, according to his Spanish biographer, Nava 
i* o<jn:il to 6,770 reals, in the currency of the present day. (Vida Mi- Cer- 
vantes, p. 371.) The real i- reckoned nt ten cents. 



392 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

overthrow of the "peculiar institution" — pardon the 
recurring phrase! — under which they groaned. He 
became in Spain what, in our day and country, is some- 
times called an "anti-slavery agitator," — not by public 
meetings and addresses, but, according to the genius of 
the age, mainly through the theatre. Not from the 
platform, but from the stage, did this liberated slave 
speak to the world. In a play entitled El Trato de, 
Argel, or Life in Algiers — which, though not composed 
according to rules of art, found much favor, probably 
from its subject — he pictured, shortly after his return 
to Spain, the manifold humiliations, pains, and torments 
of slavery. This was followed by two other plays in 
the same spirit, — La Gran Sultana Bona Oathalina de 
Oviedo, and Los Bahos de Argel, or, The Galleys of Al- 
giers. The last act of the latter closes with the state- 
ment, calculated to enlist the sympathies of an audience, 
that " this play is not drawn from the imagination, but 
was born far from the regions of fiction, in the very heart 
of truth." More could not be, said of a tale of Slavery 
in our day. Not content with this appeal through the 
theatre, < lervantes, with constant zeal, takes up the same 
theme in the tale of "The Captive" which he introduces 
into Don Quixote, and also in that of El Amante Lih ral, 
and in some parts of La EspaTiola Lnglesa, All these 
may lie regarded not merely as literary labors, but as 
charitable efforts in behalf of human freedom. 

This same cause enlisted a contemporary genius, pro- 
lific heyond precedent, called by Cervantes "that great 
prodigy of Nature," Lope de Yega, who freely bor- 
rowed from it in a play entitled Los Cautivos de Ar- 
gel. At a later day, Calderon, sometimes exalted as 
the Shakespeare of the Spanish stage, in one of his 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BAEBAEI mails. 

most remarkable dramas, El Principe Constante, < 
a poet's glance at Christian Blavery is Morocco. To 
these works, belonging to what may he called the 
literature of Anti-Slavery, and shedding upon our sub- 
ject a grateful light, musl be added a curious and 
Learned volume cm the Topography and Eistory of 
Algiers I Topographia < Historia de Argel), by Haedo, 
a Spanish father of the Catholic Church, published in 

1612, and containing also two copious 1 >ialogues, — i 

on Captivity (de la Captividad), and the other on the 
Martyrs of Algiers (de los Mdrtyres de Argel). These 
Dialogues, besides embodying authentic sketches of suf- 
fering in Algiers, form a mine of classical and patristic 
learning on the origin and character of slavery, with 
arguments and protestations against its iniquity, which 
may be explored with profit even in our day. In view 
of this gigantic evil, particularly in Algiers, and in the 
hope of arousing his countrymen to the generous work 
of emancipation, the good father exclaim-, in words 
which must thrill the soul so long as a single fetter 
binds a single slave : "Where is charity ? Where is the 
love of God ? Where is the zeal for his glory? Where 
is desire for his sendee? Where is human pity, and 
the compassion of man for man ? Certainly, to redeem 
a captive, to liberate him from wretched slavery, is the 
highest work of charity, of all that can be done in this 
world." 1 The reports of the good fathers who visited 
this land of bondage for the redemption of captives tes- 
tify likewise. One of these thus speaks from the depths 
of the heart: " The charily of Jesus Christ obliges us ; 
and T question not but that whosoever had seen those 
miseries I have been a witness to, and the deplorable 

1 Pp. 140, 141. 
17* 



394 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

condition I left our captives in, would have no less 
ardent a desire to relieve them." 1 

Not long after the hitter experience of Cervantes, an- 
other person, of another country and language, and of a 
higher character, St. Vincent de Paul, one of the saintly 
glories of France, encountered the same cruel lot. Hap- 
pily for the world, he escaped from slavery, to commence 
at home that long career of charity — nohler than any 
fame of literature — signalized by various Christian ef- 
forts against duels, for peace, for the poor, and in every 
field of humanity, by which he is enrolled among the 
great names of Christendom. Princes and orators have 
lavished panegyrics upon this fugitive slave ; and the 
Catholic Church, in homage to his extraordinary vir- 
tues, has numbered him with the saints. Nor is he 
the only illustrious Frenchman who has felt the yoke 
of slavery. Arago, astronomer and philosopher, — de- 
voted republican also, — while on the coast of the 
Mediterranean, engaged in those scientific labors which 
made the beginning of his fame, came within the clutch 
of Algerine slave-dealers. What science and the world 
gained by his liberation I need not say. 

Thus Science, Literature, Freedom, Philanthropy, the 
Catholic Church, each and all, owe a debt to the lib- 
erated P>arbary slave. Let them, on this occasion, as 
benetircnt heralds, commend the story of his wrongs, 
his struggles, and his triumphs ! 

i Busnot, History of the Reign of Mulcy Ismael: Preface. 



WHITE m.avkky IN THE BABBABY BTATES. 395 



OEIGIN OF SLAVERY. 

These preliminary remarks prepare the way for 
the subjecl to which I invite attention. Here I am 
naturally Led to touch upon the origin of slavery, and 
the principles which lie at its foundation, before pro- 
ceeding to exhibit the efforts for its abolition, and their 
final success in the Barbary States. 

The word Slave, suggesting now so much of human 
abasement, has an origin which speaks of human gran- 
deur. Its parent term, Slava, signifying glory, in the 
Slavonian dialect, where it first appears, was proudly 
assumed as the national designation of races in the 
northeastern part of the European continent, who, in 
the vicissitudes of war, were afterwards degraded from 
the condition of conquerors to that of servitude. The 
Slavonian bondman, retaining his national name, Mas 
known as Since; and this term, passing from a race 
to a class, was afterwards applied, in the languages of 
modern Europe, to all in his unhappy lot, without dis- 
tinct inn of country or color. 1 It would he difficult 
to mention any word which has played such oppo 
parts in history, — beneath the garb of servitude con- 
cealing its cmly robe of pride. And yet, startling as it 
seems, this word may be received in its primitive char- 
acter, by those among us who consider slavery essen- 
tial to democratic institutions, and therefore pari of tin- 
true glory of the country. Lexicography, going beyond 

i Gibbon, Roman Empire, Chap. LV. Vol. X. p. 190. 



396 WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBARY STATES. 

this historical illustration, announces that "most prob- 
ably the original meaning was independent, free" ' J thus 
making the slave distinctively the freeman. In the 
revolutions of society, and among the compensations 
of Providence for long-continued degradation, the slave 
might yet regain this original ascendency, if, in an era 
of justice, the highest condition were not where all are 
ecpaal in rights. 



SLAVERY IN ANTIQUITY. 

Slavery was universally recognized by the nations 
of antiquity. It is said by Pliny, in bold phrase, that 
the Lacedaemonians "invented slavery." 2 If this were 
so, the glory of Lycurgus and Leonidas would not com- 
pensate for such a blot. It is true that they recognized 
it, and gave it a shape of peculiar hardship. But sla- 
very is older than Sparta. It existed in the tents of 
Abraham ; for the three hundred and eighteen servants 
born to him were slaves. We behold it in the story of 
Joseph, who was sold by his brothers to the Midianites 
for twenty pieces of silver. 3 We find it in the poetry 
of Homer, who stamps it with a reprobation which even 
the Christian Cowper has hardly surpassed, when he 
says,— 

" Jove fixed it certain that whatever day 

Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away." 4 

1 Webster, Dictionary, word Slave. 

2 " Servltium invenere Laeedcemonii.' 1 '' Nat. Hist., Lib. Vn. C. 57. 

8 Genesis xiv. 14; Ibid, xxxvii. 28. By these and other texts of tho 
Scriptures, Blavery, and even the slave-trade, have been vindicated. See 
Brace's Travels in Africa, Book II. Ch. 2, Vol. II. p. 819. After quoting 
these texts the complacent traveller -ays he "cannot think that purchasing 
slave- i~ iii itself either cruel or unnatural." 

* Odyssey, tr. Pope, Book XVII., 3U2, 393. 



WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBAE"! STATES. 397 

Iii later days it prevailed extensively in Grn 
whose haughty people deemed themselves justified in 
enslaving all who were strangers to their manners and 
institutions. "It is righl for Greeks to rule bar- 
barians," was the Bentimenl of Euripides, one of the 
first of her poets, echoed by Aristotle, the great- 
est of her intellects. 3 And even Plato, in his im- 
aginary Republic, the Utopia of his beautiful genius, 
sanctions slavery. But notwithstanding these high 
names, we learn from Aristotle himself that there 
were persons in his day — pestilent Abolitionists of 
ancient Athens — who did not hesitate to maintain 
that liberty was the great law of Nature, and to deny 
any difference between master and slave, — declaring 
at the same time that slavery was founded upon vio- 
lence, and not upon right, and that the authority of 
the master was unnatural and unjust. 2 "God sent 
forth all persons free; Nature has made no man a 
slave," :i was the protest of one of these agitating Athe- 
nians against this great wrong. I am not in any way 
authorized to speak for any Anti-Slavery Society, even 
if this were the proper occasion; but I presume that 
this ancient Greek morality embodies substantially the 

1 Euripid., Iphig. in Taorid., 140o : Aristot., Polit., Lib. I. c. 1. 

2 Polit, Lib. I. 0. 3. In like spirit are tin' words of the good Las 
when pleading before Charles the Fifth for the Indian race- of America. 
'• The Christian religion," he said, " is equal in its operation, and is accommo- 
dated to every nation on the globe. It robs no one of his freedom, violates 
none < fhis inherent rights, on the ground thai he is a slave by nature, as pre- 

! : and it n - yonr Majesty to banish bo monstrous an op- 

pression from your kingdoms in the beginning of your reign, thai the Al- 
mighty may make it long and glorious." — Prescott, Conquest of Mi 
Vol. I. p. 879. 

3 A Baying attributed by the Scholiast on Aristotle's Rhetoric to Alcida- 
mas, a disciple of Gorgias of Leontiui. See Aristotle's Ethics and Politics, 
tr. Gillies, Vol. II. p. 26. 



398 WHITE SLATEEY IX THE BARBARY STATES. 

principles maintained at their public meetings, — so 
far, at least, as they relate to slavery. 

It is true, most true, that slavery stands on force and 
not on right. It is a hideous result of war, or of that 
barbarism in which savage war plays its conspicuous part. 
To the victor belonged the lives of his captives, and, by 
consequence, he might bind them in perpetual servi- 
tude. This principle, which has been the foundation 
of slavery in all ages, is adapted only to the rudest 
conditions of society, and is wholly inconsistent with a 
period of refinement, humanity, and justice. It is sad 
to confess that it was recognized by Greece ; but the 
civilization of this famed land, though brilliant to the 
external view as the immortal sculptures of the Par- 
thenon, was, like that stately temple, dark and cheer- 
less within. 

Slavery extended, with new T rigors, under the military 
dominion of Eome. The spirit of freedom which ani- 
mated the Republic was of that selfish and intolerant 
character which accumulated privileges upon the Ro- 
man citizen, while it heeded little the rights of others. 
But, unlike the Greeks, the Romans admitted in theory 
that all men are originally free by the Law of Nature ; 
and they ascribed the power of masters over slaves, not 
to any alleged diversities in the races of men, but to 
the will of society. 1 The constant triumphs of their 
arms were signalized by reducing to servitude large 
1m (dies of subjugated people. Paulus iEmilius returned 
from Macedonia with an uncounted train of slaves, 
composed of persons in every sphere of life ; and 
the camp of Lucullus in Pontus witnessed the sale of 
slaves for four drachmae, or seventy-five cents, a head. 

i Institut., Lib. I. Tit. 2. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 399 

Terence and Phsedrus, Roman slaves, teach us that 

genius is not always quenched even l>y degrading 
bondage; while the writings of Cato the Censor, one 
of the most virtuous slave-masters in history, show the 
hardening influence of a system which treats human 
beings as cattle. "Let the husbandman/' says Cato, 
" sell his old oxen, his sickly cattle, his sickly sheep, 
his wool, his hides, his old wagon, his old implements, 
his old slave, and his diseased slave; and if there is 
anything else not wanted, let him sell it. He should be 
seller, rather than buyer." 1 

The cruelty and inhumanity which flourished in the 
Kepublic professing freedom enjoyed a natural home 
under Emperors who were the high-priests of despotism. 
Wealth increased, and with it the multitude of slaves. 
Some masters are said to have owned as many as ten 
thousand, while extravagant prices were often paid for 
them, according to fancy or caprice. Martial mentions 
handsome boys sold for as much as two hundred thou- 
sand sesterces each, or more than eight thousand dol- 
lars. 2 On the assassination of Pedanius Secundus by 
one of his slaves, no less than four hundred were put to 
death, — an orator in the Senate arguiDg that these heca- 
tombs were in accordance with ancient custom. 3 

It is easy to believe that slavery, which prevailed 
so largely in Greece and Rome, must have existed in 
Africa. Here, indeed, it found a peculiar home. If we 
trace the progress of this unfortunate continent from 
those distant days of fable when Jupiter did not 

" disdain to trrace 
The feasts of ^Ethiopia's blameless race," 4 

1 De Re Rustica, Cap. II. 8 Tacitus, Ann., XIV. 43. 

2 Epig. III. 62. 4 Uiad, tr. Pope, Book I., 556, 557. 



400 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAE Y STATES. 

the merchandise in slaves will be found to have con- 
tributed to the abolition of two hateful customs, once 
universal in Africa, — the eating of captives, and their 
sacrifice to idols. Thus, in the march of civilization, 
even the barbarism of slavery is an important stage of 
Human Progress. It is a point in the ascending scale 
from cannibalism. 

SLAVERY IN MODERN TIMES. 

In the early periods of modern Europe slavery was 
a general custom, which yielded only gradually to the 
humane influences of Christianity. It prevailed in all 
the countries of which we have any records. Fair- 
haired Saxon slaves from distant England arrested the 
attention of Pope Gregory in the markets of Borne, 
and were by him hailed as Angels. A law of so vir- 
tuous a king as Alfred ranks slaves with horses and 
oxen ; and the Chronicles of William of Malrnesbury 
show that in our mother country there was once a cru- 
el slave-trade in whites. As we listen to this story, 
we shall be grateful again to that civilization which 
renders such outrage more and more impossible. 
" Directly opposite to the Irish coast," he says, 
" there is a seaport called Bristol, the inhabitants of 
which frequently sent into Ireland to sell those people 
whom they had bought up throughout England. They 
exposed to sale girls in a state of pregnancy, with 
whom they made a sort of mock marriage. There 
you might see with grief, fastened together by ropes, 
whole rows of wretched beings of both sexes, of elegant 
forms, and in the very bloom of youth, — a sight suffi- 
cient to excite pity even in barbarians, — daily offered 



WI1ITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBAE! STATES. 401 

for sale to the first purchaser. Accursed deed ! infa- 
mous disgrace .' that men, acting in a manner which 
brute instinct alone would have forbidden, should sell 
into slavery their relations, nay, even their own off- 
spring!" 1 Prom still another chronicler we learn, that, 
in 1172, when Ireland was afflicted with public calami- 
ties, there was a great assembly of the principal men, 
chiefly of the clergy, who concluded, as well they might, 
that these evils were sent upon their country for the 
reason that they had formerly purchased English hoys 
as slaves, contrary to the right of Christian liberty, — 
the poor English, to supply their wants, being "accus- 
tomed to sell even their own children, not to bring them 
up " : wherefore, it is said, the English slaves were al- 
Lowed to depart in freedom. 2 Earlier in Irish history a 
boy was stolen from Scotland, who, after six years of 
bondage, succeeded in reaching his home, when, entering 
the Church, he returned to Ireland, preached Christian- 
ity, and, as St. Patrick, became the patron saint of that 
beautiful land. 3 

On the Continent of Europe, as late as the thirteenth 
century, the custom prevailed of treating all captives in 
war as slaves. Here poetry, as well as history, bears its 
testimony. Old Michael Drayton, in his story of the 
Battle of Agincourt, says of the French : — 

" For knots of cord to every town they send, 
The captived English that they caught to bind ; 
For to perpetual slavery they intend 
Tlwse that alive they on the field should find." i 

of St. Wolstan, Rook TI. Chap. 20. 

2 Chronica Hiberniae, or the Annals of Philip Flatstrary (in the Cottonian 
Library, Domitianua XVIII. 10); quoted in Stephen on We^t India Slavery, 
Vol. I. p. 6. 

3 Biographic G£n£rale (Hoefer), Art Patrice. 

4 Battle of Agincourt, st. 144. 

z 



402 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBABY STATES. 

And Othello, in recounting his perils, exposes this cus- 
tom, when he speaks 

" Of being taken by the insolent foe 
And sold to slavery ; of my redemption thence." 

It was also held lawful to enslave an infidel, or person 
who did not receive the Christian faith. The early Com- 
mon Law of England doomed heretics to the stake ; the 
Catholic Inquisition did the same ; and the laws of 
< Heron, the maritime code of the Middle Ages, treated 
them " as dogs," to be attacked and despoiled by all true 
believers. Philip le Bel of France, grandson of St. Louis, 
in 129C presented his brother Charles, Count of Yalois, 
with a Jew, and paid three hundred livres for another 
Jew, — as if Jews were at the time chattels, to be given 
away or bought. 1 The statutes of Florence, boastful of 
freedom, as late as 1415 allowed republican citizens to 
hold slaves not of the Catholic Christian faith,- — Qui 
non sit nt GatholiccB fidei et Christiance. 2 Bes ides captive 
Moors, there were African slaves in Spain, before Christo- 
pher Columbus ; and at Venice Marco Polo for some time 
held a slave he had brought from the Orient in the age 
of Dante. The comedies of Moliere, L'Mourdi and Le 
Sicilien, depicting Italian usages not remote from his 
day, show that at Messina even Christian women con- 
tinued to be sold as slaves. 

This rapid sketch, which brings us down to the pe- 
riod when Algiers became a terror to the Christian na- 
tions, lenders it no longer astonishing that the barbarous 
States of Barbary- — a part of Africa, the great womb 
of slavery, professing Mahometanism, which not only 

i Encyclop^die M^thodique (Jurisprudence), Art. Esclavage. 

- Biot, I>'' ['Abolition de l'Esclavage Ancien en Occident, \>. 440, — a 

work crow 1 with :i pold medal by the Institute of France, which will be 

read with Borne disappointment. 



WHITE SLAVEBY IN THE BARBAE"! STATES. 403 

recognizes slavery, but expressly ordains "chains and 
collars" to infidels 1 — should maintain the traffic in 
slaves, particularly in Christians, denying the faith of 
the Prophet In the duty of constant war upon unbe- 
lievers, and in the assertion of right to the service or 
ransom of their captives, they followed the lessons of 
Christians themseh es. 

It is not difficult, then, to account for the origin of 
this cruel custom. Its history forms our next topic. 



II. 
HISTORY OF WHITE SLAVERY. 

The Barbary States, after the decline of the Arabian 
power, were enveloped in darkness, rendered more pal- 
pable by increasing light among the Christian nations. 
At the twilight of European civilization they appear 
to he little more than scattered bands of robbers and 
pirates, "land-rats and water-rats" of Shylock, lead- 
ing the lives of Ishmaelites. Algiers is described by an 
early writer a- "a den of sturdy thieves formed into 
a body, by which, alter a tumultuary sort, they gov- 
ern," 2 — and by still another writer, contemporary with 
the monstrosity which he exposes, as the "theatre of all 
crueltie and sanctuarie of iniquitie, holding captive, in 
miserable servitude, one hundred and twentie thousand 
Christians, almost all subjects of the king of Spaini 
Their habit of enslaving prisoners captured in war and 
piracy arousing at last the sacred animosities of < Ihristen- 

i Koran, Chap. LXXVI. 

2 A Discourse concerning Tangier : Harleian Miscellany, VbL Y. p. 522. 

8 Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. p. 1565. 



404 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

dom, Ferdinand the Catholic, after the conquest of Gra- 
nada, and while the boundless discoveries of Columbus, 
gr\ Lug to Castile and Leon a new world, still occupied his 
mind, found time to direct an expedition into Africa, 
under the military command of that great ecclesiastic, 
Cardinal Ximenes. It is recorded that this valiant sol- 
dier of the Church, on effecting the concmest of Oran, 
in 1509, had the inexpressible satisfaction of liberating 
three hundred Christian slaves. 1 

To stay the progress of the Spanish arms the govern- 
ment of Algiers invoked assistance from abroad. Two 
brothers, Horuc and Hayradin, sons of a potter in the 
island of Lesbos, had become famous as corsairs. In an 
age when the sword of the adventurer often carved a 
higher fortune than could be earned by lawful exertion, 
they were dreaded for abilities, hardihood, and power. 
To them Algiers turned for aid. The corsairs left the 
sea to sway the land, — or rather, with amphibious rob- 
bery, took possession of Algiers and Tunis, while they 
continued to prey upon the sea. The name of Barba- 
rossa, by which they are known to Christians, is terri- 
ble in modern history. 2 

MILITARY EXPEDITIONS AGAINST WHITE SLAVERY. 

With pirate ships they infested the seas, and spread 
their ravages along the coasts of Spain and Italy, until 
Charles the Fifth was aroused to undertake their Over- 
throw. The various strength of his broad dominions 
was rallied in this new crusade. " 'If the enthusiasm," 

i Prescott, History of Ferdinand and Isabella, Vol. III. p. 308. Purchas's 
Pilgrims, Vol. II. p. 813. 

- Robertson, History of Charles the Fifth, Book V. Haedo, tlistoria de 
Argel, Epitome de Ios Reyes de Argel. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAE? STATES. 405 

3aya Sismondi, "which had aimed the Christiana in the 
old Crusades was nearly extinct, a new sentiment, more 
rational and legitimate, united the vows of Europe with 
the efforts of Charles against the infidels. The object 
was no Longer to reconquer the tomb of Christ, but to 
defend the civilization, the liberty, the lives of Chris- 
tians." 1 A stanch body of infantry from Germany, 
veterans of Spain and Italy, the flower of the Spanish 
nobility, knights of Malta, with a fleet of near live 
hundred vessels, contributed by Italy, Portugal, and 
even distant Holland, commanded by Andrew Doria, the 
■ i. ;ii sea-officer of the age. — the whole under the im- 
mediate eye of the Emperor himself, with the counte- 
nance and benediction of the Pope, and composing one 
of the most complete armaments which the world had 
hitherto seen, — were directed upon Tunis. Barbarossa 
opposed them bravely, but with unequal forces. While 
slowly yielding to attack from without, his defeat was 
hastened by unexpected uprising within. Confined in 
the citadel were many Christian slaves, who, asserting 
the rights of freedom, obtained a bloody emancipation, 
and turned its artillery against their former masters. 
The place yielded to the Emperor, whose soldiers soon 
surrendered to the inhuman excesses of war. The blood 
of thirty thousand innocent inhabitants reddened his 
victory. Amidst these scenes of horror there was but 
one spectacle that afforded any satisfaction to the im- 
perial conqueror. It was that of ten thousand ( Ihristian 
slaves rejoicing in emancipation, who met him as he en- 
tered the town, and, falling on their knees, thanked him 
as their deliverer. 2 

i Bistoire dea Francais, Tom. XVII. pp. 101, 102. 
2 Robertson, History of Charles the Fifth, Book V. 



406 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

In the treaty of peace which ensued, it was expressly 
stipulated on the part of Tunis, that all Christian sla\ es, 
of whatever nation, should be set at liberty without ran- 
som, and that no subject of the Emperor should for the 
future be detained in slavery. 1 

The apparent generosity of this undertaking, the 
magnificence with which it was conducted, and the 
success with winch it was crowned drew to the Em- 
peror the homage of his age beyond any other event of 
his reign. Twenty thousand slaves freed by treaty or 
by arms diffused through Europe the praise of his 
name. It is probable that in this expedition the Em- 
peror was governed by motives little higher than vulgar 
ambition and fame ; but the results by which it was 
emblazoned, in the emancipation of so many fellow- 
Christians from cruel chains, place him, with Cardinal 
Ximenes, among the earliest Abolitionists of modern 
times. 

Tli is was in 1535. Only a few short years before, in 
1517, he conceded to a Flemish courtier the exclu- 
sive privilege of importing into the West Indies four 
thousand blacks from Africa. It is said that Charles 
lived long enough to repent what he had thus incon- 
siderately done. 2 Certain it is, no single conces- 
sion of king or emperor recorded in history has pro- 
duced such disastrous far-reaching consequences. The 
Fleming sold his monopoly to a company of Cenoese 
merchants, who organized a systematic traffic in slaves 
between Africa and America. Thus, while levying a 
mighty force to check the piracies of Barbarossa, and to 
procure the abolition of Christian slavery in Tunis, the 

i Robertson, History of Charles the Fifth, Rook V. 

~ Clarkson, History of the Abolition of tin Slave-Trade, Vol. I. p. 33. 



WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBAE? STATES. 407 

Emperor, with criminal inconsistency, laid the corner- 
stone of a uew slavery, in comparison with which the 
enormity he warred againsl was trivia] and fugitive. 

Elated by the conquest of Tunis, filled also with the 
ambition of subduing all the Barbary stales, and of 
extirpating Christian shivery, the Emperor in L541 
directed an expedition of singular grandeur againsl 
Algiers. The Pope tardily joined his influence to the 
martial array. But Nature proved stronger than Pope 
and Emperor. Within sight of Algiers a sudden storm 
shattered his proud fleet, and he was driven back to 
Spain, discomfited, with none of those trophies of 
emancipation with which his former expedition was 
crowned. 1 

The power of the Barbary States was now- at its 
height. Their corsairs became the scourge of Christen- 
dom, while their much dreaded system of slavery as- 
sumed a front of new- terror. Their ravages were not 
confined to the Mediterranean. They entered the 
ocean, and penetrated even to the Straits of Dover and 
St. George's Channel From the chalky cliffs of Eng- 
land, and from the remote western coasts of Ireland, 
unsuspecting inhabitants were swept into cruel cap- 
tivity. 2 The English government was aroused against 

i Robertson's Charles the Fifth, Book VI. A lamentable and piteons 
Treatise, rerye aecessarye for euerie Christen Manne to reade, wherin 
is contayned, Dot onely the high Entreprise and Valeauntnes of Themperour 
Charles the v. and his Army (in his Voyage made to the Towne of Argier 
in Afiriqne, etc.) Truly and dylygently translated out of Latyn into 
Frenche, and out of Frenche into English, 1642: Harleian Miscellany, 
Vol. IV. p. 504. 

2 Guizot, Histoire de la Revolution d'Angleterre, I.iv. II. Tom. I. p. 78. 
Strafford's Letters and Dispatches, Vol I. p. 68. Sir George Radcliffe, the 
friend and biographer of the Earl, boasts that the latter "secured the seas 
from piracies, bo as only one Bhip was lost at his first coming [as Lord 
Lieutenant to Ireland], and no more all his time ; whereas every year 



408 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

these atrocities. In 1620, a fleet of eighteen ships, 
under the command of Sir Robert Mansel, Vice-Ad- 
miral, was despatched to punish Algiers. It returned 
without being able, in the language of the times, to 
"destroy those hellish pirates," though it obtained the 
liberation of "some forty poore captives, which they 
pretended was all they had in the towne." Purchas 
records, that the English fleet was indebted for informa- 
tion to "a Christian captive, which did swimme from 
the towne to the ships." x Not in this respect only does 
this expedition recall that of Charles the Fifth, which 
received important assistance from rebel slaves ; we 
observe also a similar inconsistency in the government 
which directed it. It was in the year 1620, — dear 
to all the descendants of the Pilgrims of Plymouth 
Pock as an epoch of freedom, — while an English fleet 
was seeking the emancipation of Englishmen held in 
bondage by Algiers, that African slaves were first in- 
troduced into the English colonies of North America, 2 
thus beginning that dreadful system whose long cata- 
logue of humiliation and woes is not yet complete. 

The expedition against Algiers was followed, in 1637, 
by another againsl Sallee, in Morocco. Terrified by its 
approach, (lie Moors desperately transferred a thousand 
captives, British subjects, to Tunis and Algiers. " Some 

before, not only several ships and goods were lost by robbery at sea, but 
also Turkish men-of-war usiially landed and took prey of men to be made 
.</,,>;.<:' — [bid., Vol. II. p. 434. 

i Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. pp. 881-886. Southey, Naval History of 
England, Vol. V. pp. 60-63. There was a publication specially relating 
to tin- expedition, entitle. 1 " Algiers V03 age, in a Journall, or briefe Bepor- 
tary of all < tccurrents hapning in the Fleet of Ship- sent oul by the Kinge 
his most excellent Majestic, as well against the Pirates of Algiers :is others," 
London, 1621, Ito. 

- Bancroft, History of the United States, Vol. I. p. 189. 



WHITE SLAVEB7. IN Till: BARBAE? STATES. 409 

Christians thai were Blavea ashore, who stole away out 
of the town and came swimming aboard/ 1 together with 
intestine fend, aided the fleet, and the cause of emanci- 
pation speedily triumphed. 1 Two hundred and ninety 
Britons were released, and a promise was extorted from 
the enemy to redeem the wretched captives sold away 
to Tunis and Algiers. Shortly afterwards an ambas- 
sador from the King of Morocco visited England, and 
on his way through the streets of London to his au- 
dience at courl was attended hy " tour liarhary horses 
led along in rich caparisons, and richer saddles, with 
bridles set with stones; also some hawks j many of the 
captives whom he brought over going along afoot clad in 
white" 2 Every emancipated slave was a grateful wit- 
ness to English prowess. 

The importance attached to this achievement is in- 
ferred from the singular joy with which it was hailed in 
England. Though on a limited scale, it was nothing less 
than a war of liberation. Poet, ecclesiastic, and states- 
man now joined in congratulation. It inspired the Muse 
of Waller to a poem called " The Taking of Sallee," where 
the submission of the slaveholder is thus described: — 

"Hither he Bends the chief among his peers, 
Who in lii— bark proportioned presents bears 
To the renowned for piety and force, 
Poor captives manumised, and matchless horse." 

It gladdened Laud, and lighted with exultation the dark 
mind of Strafford. " For Sallee, the town is taken." said 
the Archbishop in a letter to the Earl, then in Ireland, 
"and all the captives at Sallee ami Morocco delivered. 
— as many, owr merchants say, as, according to tJu price 

i Journal of the Ball I ' Osborne's Voyages, Vol. n. p. 403. See 
also Mr=. Macanlay's History of England, Chap. IV. Vol. II. p. 219. 
- Strafford's Letters ami Despatches, Vol. 11. pp. 86, 116, 129. 

VOL. I. 18 



410 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

of the marled, come to ten thousand pounds at least." J 
Strafford saw in the popularity of this triumph fresh 
opportunity to commend the tyrannical designs of 
Charles the First, " This action of Sallee," he wrote 
in reply to the Archbishop, " I assure you, is full of hon- 
or, will bring great content to the subject, and should, 
methinks, help much towards the ready, cheerful pay- 
ment of the shipping moneys." 2. Thus was this act of 
emancipation linked with one of the most memorable 
events of English history. 

The coasts of England were now protected ; but her 
subjects at sea continued the prey of Algerine corsairs, 
who, according to the historian Carte, now "carried 
their English captives to France, drove them in chains 
overland to Marseille, to ship them thence with greater 
safety for slaves to Algiers." 3 The increasing troubles 
which distracted the reign of Charles the First, and 
finally brought his head to the block, could not divert 
attention from the sorrows of Englishmen, victims to 
Mahometan slave-drivers. At the height of the strug- 
gle between King and Parliament, an earnest voice was 
raised in behalf of these fellow-Christians in bonds. 
Edmund Waller, who was orator as well as poet, speak- 
ing in Parliament in 1641, said, " By the many pe- 
titions which we receive from the wives of those 
miserable captives at Algiers (being between four or 
five thousand of our countrymen) it does too evident- 
ly appear that to make us slaves at home is not the 
way to keep us from being made slaves abroad." 4 



1 Strafford's Letters an<l Despatches, Vol. II. p. 131. 

2 Ibid., p. 138. 

;; Bi tory of England, Hook \.\11. Vol. IV. p. 231. 
^ Works, p. 270. 



white si.avi:i;v ix tiik BARBABY STATES. -Ill 

Publications pleading their cause are yd extant, bear- 
ing date L637, L640, L642, and UJ47. 1 The overthrow 
of an oppression bo justly odious formed a worthy ob- 
jecl for the imperial energies of Cromwell; and in L655, 
when, amidst the amazemenl of Europe, the English 
sovereignty settled upon his Atlantean shoulders, he 
directed into the Mediterranean a navy of thirty ships, 
under the command of Admiral Blake. This was the 
mosl powerful English force which had sailed iuto 
that sea since the Crusades. 2 Its success was com- 
plete. "General Blak," said one of the foreign agents 
of Government, "has ratiryed the articles of peace 
at Argier, and included therein Scotch, Irish. Jam- 
Bey and Garnsey-men, and all others the Protector's 
subjects. He has lykewys redeemed I'miu thence al 
such as wer captives ther. Several I>"<-/i captives swam 
aboard the fleet, and so escape theyr captivity."* Tunis, 
as well as Algiers, was humbled ; all British captives 
were set at liberty; and the Protector, in his remark- 
able speech at the opening of Parliament, announced 

1 Compassion towards Captives: urged and pressed in Three Sermons on 
II' b. riii. 8, i". Charles Fitz-Geffry, Oxford, 1037. Libertas,or Beliefe tothe 
1 iptivea in Algier, by Henry Robinson, London, 1642. Letters re- 
lating to tin- Redemption of the Captives in Argier and Tunis, by Edmond 
I . London, 164". A Relation of Seven Fears Slavery under the Turks of 
Algier. suffered by an English Captive Merchant, etc., together with a De- 
Bcription of the Sufferings of the Miserable Captives under that Men 
Tyranny, etc., by Francis Knight, London, 1640. The last publication ispre- 
I in the Collection of Voyages and Travels by Osborne, Vol. EL pp. 
465- ; 

- Hume says, "No English fleet, except during the Crusades, h 
before sailed in those seas." (History of England, Chap. I. XI. VoL VII. |>. 
II forgot tin- expedition of Sir Robert Mansel, already mentioned 
(ante, p. 408), which was elaborately debated in the Privy Council a- early 

17. three years before it was finally undertaken, ami was tin- so 
of a special work. See Southey's Naval History of England, VoL Y- \>\<. 
149-167. 
3 Thurloe'a State Pap.'!-,, VoL III. p. 527. 



412 "WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAE Y STATES. 

peace with the " profane " nations in that region. 1 To 
my mind no single circumstance gives higher impres- 
sion of that vigilance with which the Protector guarded 
his subjects than this effort, to which may be applied 
the " smooth " line of Waller, — 

" telling dreadful news 
To all that piracy and rapine use." 2 

His vigorous sway was succeeded by the voluptuous 
tyranny of Charles the Second, inaugurated by an un- 
successful expedition against Algiers under Lord Sand- 
wich. This was soon followed by another, with more 
favorable result, under Admiral Lawson. 3 Then came 
a treaty, bearing date May 3, 1662, by which the pi- 
ratical government stipulated, " that all subjects of the 
king of Great Britain, now slaves in Algiers, or any of 
the territories thereof, shall be set at liberty, and re- 
leased, upon paying the price they were first sold for 
in the market ; and for the time to come no subjects 
of His Majesty shall be bought or sold, or made slaves 
of, in Algiers or its territories." 4 This seems to have 
been short-lived. Other expeditions ensued, and other 
treaties in 1664, 1672, 1682, and 1686, — showing, by 
their constant iteration, the little impression produced 
upon these barbarians. 5 Insensible to justice and free- 
dom, how could they be faithful to stipulations in re- 
straint of robbery and slaveholding ? 

Legislation turned aside in behalf of these captives. 
The famous statute of the forty-third year of Queen 
Elizabeth for charitable uses designates among proper 

1 Carlyle's Letters and Speeches of Cromwell, Part IX. Speech V. Vol. 
II. p. 235. 
- Panegyric to my Lord Protector, st. 9. 
:; Rapin, History of England, Book XXIII. Vol. II. pp. 858, 864. 
* Recueil des Traitez de Paix, Tom. IV. p. 43. 
6 Ibid., pp. 307, 476, 703, 756. 



WHITE SLAVEEY IX THE BAEBAEY STATES. 413 

objects the "relief or redemption of prisoners or cap- 
tives," meaning especially, according to recent judicial 
decision, those suffering in the Barbary States. A be- 
quesl by Lady Mico, in L670, " to redeem poor slaves in 
what manner the executors should think convenient," 
came under review as late as L835, when slavery in the 
Barbary states was already dead, and the British Act of 
Emancipation had commenced its operation in the West 
Indies; but the court sanctioned the application of the 
fund to the education of the Africans whose freedom 
was then beginning. 1 Thus was a charity originally 
inspired by sympathy for white slave- applied to the 
benefit of black 

During a long succession of years, complaints of Eng- 
lish captives continued. In 1748 an indignant soul 
found expression in these words: — 

" 0, how can Britain's sons regardless hear 
The prayer-, sighs, groans (immortal infamy !) 
Of fellow-Britons, with oppression sunk. 
In bitterness of soul demanding aid, 
Calling on Britain, their clear native land, 
The land of liberty? "2 

But during all this time the slavery of blacks, trans- 
ported to the colonies under British colors, continued 
also ! 

Meanwhile France plied Algiers with embassies and 
bombardments. In 1635 three hundred and forty-seven 
Frenchmen were captives there. M. de Samson was 
dispatched on an unsuccessful mission for their libera- 
tion. They were offered to him "for the price they were 
sold for in the market"; but this lie refused to pay. 8 

1 Attorney-General v. Gibson, 2 Beav. R. 317, note. 

2 The Gentleman's Magazine, Vol. XVIFI. p. 531. 

8 Relation of Seven Tears Slavery under the Turks of Algier: Osborne's 
Voyages, Vol. II. p. 468. 



414 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BAKBABY STATES. 

Two years later, M. de Manti, who was called "that 
noble captain, and glory of the French nation," was sent 
" with fifteen of his king's ships, and a commission to 
enfranchise the French slaves." He also returned, leav- 
ing his countrymen still in captivity. 1 Treaties fol- 
lowed, hastily concluded, and abruptly broken, till at 
last Louis the Fourteenth, in the pride of power, did for 
France what Cromwell had done for England. Algiers, 
twice bombarded 2 in 1G83, sent deputies to sue for 
peace, and to surrender all her Christian slaves. Tunis 
and Tripoli made the same submission. Voltaire, with 
his accustomed point, says that by this transaction the 
French became respected on the coast of Africa, where 
they had before been known only as slaves. 3 

An unhappy incident is mentioned by the historian, 
which attests how little the French at that time, even 
while engaged in securing the redemption of their own 
countrymen, cared for the cause of general freedom. An 
officer of the triumphant fleet, receiving the Christian 
slaves sin-rendered to him, observed among them many 
English, who, with national vainglory, maintained that 
they were set at liberty out of regard to the king of Eng- 

1 Relation of Seven Years Slavery: Osborne's Voyages, Vol. II. p. 470. 

2 In tin' melancholy history of war. this is remarked as the earliest in- 
stance of bombarding a town. Sismondi, who never tails to regard the past 
in the light of humanity, remarks, that " Louis the Fourteenth was the first 
to put in practice the atrocious method, newly invented, of bombarding 
town-, — ofbiirning them, not to take them, but to destroy them, — of at- 
tacking, not fortifications, but private houses, not soldiers, but peaceabli inhabi- 
ants, women ami children, — and of confounding thousands of private crimes, 
each (/)/<< of which would cause horror, in one great public crime, one great dis- 
aster, which lie regarded only as one of the catastrophes of war." (Histoire 
des Francais, Tom. XXV. p. 452.) How much of this is justly applicable 
to the recent sacrifice of women and children by forces of the United 
State- at Vera Cruz! Algiers was bombarded in the cause of freedom; 
Vera Cruz, to extend slaVi ry .' 

8 Siecle de Louis XIV., Chap. XIV. 



WHITE SLAVEBY IN THE BARBAE? status. 415 

land. At once the Frenchman summoned the Algerines, 
and, returning the foolish captives into their hands, said : 
"These people pretend that they have beeii delivered in 

the name of their monarch. .Mine dues not take the 
liberty to offer them his protection. I return them to 
yon. It is for you to show what you owe to the king of 
England." ' The Englishmen were hurried again to pro- 
longed slavery. The power of Charles the Second was 
Impotent in their behalf, as was the sense of justice and 
humanity in the French officer or the Algerine slave- 
masters. 

1 cannot pause to develop the course of other efforts 
by France ; nor can I dwell upon the determined conduct 
of Holland, one of whose greatest naval commanders, 
Admiral de Winter, in 1661, enforced at Algiers the 
emancipation of several hundred ( Ihristian slaves. 2 The 
inconsistency which we have before remarked appears 
also iu these two powers. Both, while using their Lest 
endeavors for the freedom of their white people, were 
cruelly engaged selling blacks into distant American 
slavery, — as if every word of reprobation fastened upon 
the piratical, slave-driving Algerines did not return in 
eternal judgment against themselves. 

REDEMPTION OF WHITE SLAVES. 

Thus far T have followed the history of military ex- 
peditions. War has been our melancholy burden. But 
peaceful measures were employed to procure the redemp- 
tion of slaves, and money sometimes accomplished what 

was vainly attempted by the sword. In furtherance of 

i Voltaire, Siecle de Louis XIV., Chap. XIV. 
2 Gentleman's Magazine, Vol. XVIII. p. 441. 



416 WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BAEBARY STATES. 

this object, missions were often sent which could not be 
disregarded. These sometimes had a formal diplomatic 
organization ; sometimes they consisted of fathers of the 
Church, who held it a sacred office to open the prison- 
doors and let the captives go free. 1 It was through the 
intervention of superiors of the Order of the Holy 
Trinity, dispatched to Algiers by Philip the Second of 
Spain, that Cervantes obtained his ransom, in 1580. 2 
Expeditions of commerce often served to promote similar 
designs of charity ; and England, forgetting or distrust- 
ing all her sleeping thunder, sometimes condescended 
to barter articles of merchandise for the liberty of her 
subjects. 3 

Private effort often secured the liberation of slaves. 
Friends at home naturally exerted themselves, and many 
families were straitened by generous contributions for 

1 To the relations of these missions we are indebted for works of interest 
on the Barbary States, some of which I am able to mention. Busnot, Ilistoire 
du R'f.gne de Muley Fsmael, a Rouen, 1714. This is by a father of the Holy 
Trinity, and was translated into English. J. B. de la Faye, Relation, en 
Forme de Journal, du Voyage aux Royaumes de Tunis et d? Alger pour la 
Redemption des Captifs, a Paris, 1726. Voyage to Barbary for the Redemp- 
tion of Captives in 1720, by the Maikurin- Trinitarian Fathers, London, 1735. 
This is a translation from the French. Braithwaite's History of the Revolu- 
tions in the Empire of Morocco, London, 1729. This contains a journal 
of the mission of John Russel, Esq., from the English government, to obtain 
the liberation of slaves in Morocco. The expedition was thoroughly equip- 
ped. "The Moor-." says the author, " find plenty of everything but drink, 
but for that the English generally take care of themselves ; for, besides 
chairs, tables, knives, forks, plates, table-linen, &c, we had two or three 
mules loaded with wine, brandy, sugar, and utensils for punch." — p. 82. 

- Roscoe, l.it'e of Cervantes, p. 43. 

8 Witness an illustrative record. " The following goods, designed as a 
present from his Majesty to the Dey of Algiers, to redeem near one hundred 
English captives lately taken, were entered at the custom-house, viz.: 
20 pieces of broadcloth. 2 pieces of brocade. 2 pieces of silver tabby, 1 piece 
of green damask, s pieces of Holland, 10 pieces of cambric, a gold repeating 
watch, 4 silver ditto, 20 pound of tea, 800 of loaf-sugar, 5 fusees, 5 pair of 
pistols, an esi rut ire, 2 clocks, and a box of toys." — Gentleman's Maga- 
zine, 1734, Vol. IV. p. 104. 



WHITE SLAVEEI IN THE BARBAKY STATES. 417 

this purpose. The widowed mother of Cervantes sacri- 
ficed the entire pittance that remained to tier, including 
the dowry of her daughters, fco aid the emancipation of 
her son. An Englishman, of whose doleful captivity 
there is a record in the memoirs of his son, obtained his 
redemption through the earnesl efforts of his wife at home. 
"She resolved," says the story, "to use all the means 
that lay in her power for his freedom, though she Left 
nothing for herself and children* to subsisl upon She 
Mas forced to put to sale, as she did, some plate, gold 
rings, and bracelets, and some part of her household 
goods, to make up his ransom, which came to aboul one 
hundred and fifty pounds sterling." ' In L642 four 
French brothers were ransomed at the price of six thou- 
sand dollars. At this same period the sum exacted for 
the poorest Spaniard was "a thousand shillings," while 
the Genoese, "if under twenty-two years of age, were 
freed for a hundred pounds sterling." 2 These charitable 
efforts were aided by the co-operation of benevolent 
persons. George Fox interceded for several Quakers, 
slaves in Algiers, writing "a book to the Grand Sultan 
and the king at Algiers, wherein he laid before them 
their indecent behavioT and unreasonable dealings, show- 
ing them from their Alcoran that this displeased God, 
and that Mahomet had given them other directions." 
Here was the customary plainness of the Quaker. Some 
time elapsed before an opportunity was found to redeem 
them ; "but in the mean while they so faithfully served 
their masters, that they were suffered to go loose through 
the town, without being chained or fettered." 3 

i Memoirs of Abraham Brown, MS. 

- Relation of Seven Years Slavery: Osborne's Voyages, VoL II. p. 489. 

8 Sewel'a History of the Quakers, p. 397. 

18* AA 



418 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BAEBAEY STATES. 

As early as tlie thirteenth century, under the sanc- 
tion of Tope Innocent the Third, an important associa- 
tion was organized to promote emancipation. This was 
known as the Society of the Fathers of Redemption} 
During many successive generations its blessed labors 
were continued, amidst the praise and sympathy of 
generous men. History, undertaking to recount its ori- 
gin, and tilled with a grateful sense of its extraordinary 
merits, attributed it to the inspiration of an angel in the 
sky, clothed in resplendent light, holding a Christian 
captive in the right hand and a Moor in the left. The 
] >inns Spaniard who narrates the marvel earnestly de- 
clares that this institution of beneficence was the work, 
not of men, but of the great God alone; and he dwells, 
with more than the warmth of history, on the glory 
filling the lives of its associates, surpassing far that of a 
Roman triumph; for they share the name as well as the 
labors of the Redeemer of the world, to whose spirit they 
arc heirs, and to whose works they are successors. 
" Lucullus," he says, "affirmed that it were better to 
liberate a single Roman from the hands of the enemy 
than to gain all their wealth; but how much greater the 
gain, more excellent tin- glory, and more than human is 
it to redeem a captive I For whosoever redeems him 
liberates him not alone from one death, but from death 
in a thousand ways, and those ever present, and also 
from a thousand afflictions, a thousand miseries, a. thou- 
sand torments and fearful travails, more cruel than death 
itself." 2 The genius of Cervantes has left a record of 
his gratitude to this Antislavery Society, 11 — herald of 
others whose mission is not yet finished. Throughout 

i Biot, !>>• I' Vbolition de I'Esclavage kneien en Occident, p. 437. 

2 Haedo, Dialopo I. de la Captividad: Historia <1«' Argel, pp 142-144. 

8 Roscoe, Life of Cervantes, p. 50. See his story oiE$panola Inghsa. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBABY SI Ml . 419 

Spain annual contributions for ii continued to be taken 
during many years. Nor in Spain only did it awaken 
sympathy. In Italy and France also it Labored success- 
fully; and as late as L748, inspired by a similar catholic 
spirit, if not by its example, a proposition appeared in 
England to " form a society to carry on the truly chari- 
table design" of emancipating sixty-four English slaves 
in Morocco. 1 



CONSPIRACIES FOR FREEDOM. 

War and ransom were nol the only agents. Even if 
history were silent, it is impossible to suppose thai 
slaves of African Barbary endured their lot without 
struggles for freedom. 

" Since the first moment they put on my chains, 
I've thought of nothing but the weight of 'em, 
And how to throw 'em off." - 

These are words of the slave in a play; but they express 
the natural inborn sentiments of all with intelligeni 
appreciate the precious boon of freedom. "Thank- be 
to Grod Pot so ureat mercies!" says the Captive in Don 
Quixote; " for in my opinion there is no happiness on 
earth equal to that of recovering Los1 liberty." :; \\u\ plain 
Thomas Phelps, — once a slave al Mequinez in Morocco, 
whence, in L685, he fortunately escaped, — narrating his 
adventures and sufferings, breaks forth in similar strain. 
" Since my escape," he says, " from captivity, and worse 
than Egyptian bondage, I have, methinks, enjoyed a hap- 

i Gentleman's Magazine, Vol. XV1IT. p. 413. 

: South e, Oroonoko, Mi III. S<-. -j. It is not Btrange that the antisla- 
very character of this play rendered it unpopular at Liver pros- 

perous merchants then- ned in the slave-to 

8 Do . Part I. Book IV. Chap. 12. 



420 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

piness with which my former life was never acquainted; 
now that, after a storm and terrible tempest, I have, by 
miracle, put into a safe and quiet harbor, after a most 
miserable slavery to the most unreasonable and bar- 
barous of men, now that I enjoy the immunities and 
freedom of my native country and the privileges of a 
subject of England, although my circumstances other- 
wise are but indifferent, yet I find I am affected with 
extraordinary emotions and singular transports of joy; 
now I know what liberty is, and can put a value and 
make a just estimate of that happiness which before I 

never well understood Health can be but slightly 

esteemed by him who never was acquainted with pain 
or sickness; and liberty and freedom are the happi- 
ness only valuable by a reflection on captivity and slav- 
ery." 2 Thus from every quarter gathers the cloud of 
witnesses. 

The history of Algiers abounds in well-authenticated 
examples of conspiracy against Government by Christian 
slaves: so strong was the passion for escape. In 1531 
mid L559 two separate schemes were matured, promis- 
ing fur :i while entire success. The slaves were numer- 
ous ; keys to open the prisons had been forged, and arms 
supplied ; but the treachery of one of their number be- 
trayed i he plot to the Dey, who sternly doomed the 
Conspirators to the bastinado and the stake. Cervantes, 

during his captivity, nothing daunted by disappointed 
efforts, and the terrible vengeance which attended them, 

( jeived the plan >>\' a general slave insurrection, with 

the overthrow of the AJgerine power, and the surrender 
of the city to the Spanish crown. This was in accord 

1 True Account of the Captivity of Thomas Phelps: Osborne's Voyages, 
Vol. II. p. 500. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAE? STATES. l-\ 

with thai sentiment to which he gives such famous 
utterance in his writings, that "for liberty we ought to 
risk life itself, slavery being the greatest evil that can 
tall tn the lot of man," ' As late as L763 there was a 
similar insurrection or conspiracy. "Last month," says 
a journal of high authority, "the Christian slaves at 
Algiers, to the number of four thousand, rose and killed 
their guards, and massacred all who came in their May ; 
but after some hours 1 carnage, during which the streets 
ran with blood, peace was restored." 2 Bow truly is 
bloodshed the natural incident of slavery! 



EFFORTS TO ESCAPE FROM SLAVERY. 

The struggles for freedom could not always assume 
the shape of conspiracy. They were often efforts to 
escape, sometimes in numbers and sometimes singly. 
The captivity of Cervantes was filled with such, where, 
though constantly balked, lie persevered with courage 
and skill. On one occasion lie attempted to escape by 
land to Oram a Spanish settlement on the coast, but, 
being deserted by his ^uide, was compelled to return. 3 
Another endeavor was promoted by Christian merchants 
at Algiers, through whose agency a vessel was actually 
purchased lor this purpose. And still another was fa- 
vored by a number of his own countrymen, hovering on 
the coast in a vessel from .Majorca, who did not think it 

i Roscm... Life of Cervantes, pp B2, 810, 811. In the same Bpirit Thomas 

Phelps says, "I looked upon my < lition a< desperate; my forlorn and 

languishing state of life, without any hope of redemption, appeared fax 
worse than the terrors of a most cruel death." — Osborne's Voyages, VoL 
II. p. 504. 

2 Annual Register, 1768, Vol. VI. p. 60]. 

8 El Trato de Argel. 



-422 WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BAKBAET STATES. 

wrong to aid iii the liberation of slaves. And this was 
supposed to be aided by a Spanish ecclesiastic, Father 
Olivar, who, being at Algiers for the ransom of slaves, 
could nol resist the temptation to lend generous assist- 
ance to the straggles of fellow-Christians in bonds. He 
paid the hitter penalty which similar service to freedom 
has tumid elsewhere and in another age. He was seized 
by the Dey, and thrown into chains; for the Algerine 
government held it a high offence to further in any way 
the escape of a slave. 1 

Endeavors for freedom are animating; nor can any 
honest nature hear of them without a throb of sym- 
pathy. Dwelling on the painful narrative of unequal 
contest between tyrannical power and the crushed cap- 
tive, we resolutely enter the lists on the side of freedom ; 
and beholding the contest waged by a few individuals, 
or, perhaps, by one alone, our sympathy is given to his 
weakness as well as to his cause. To him we send the 
unfaltering succor of good wishes. For him we invoke 
vigor of arm to defend and tleetness of foot to escape. 
Human enactments are vain to restrain the warm tides 
of the heart. We pause with rapture on those historic 
scenes where freedom has been attempted or preserved 
through the magnanimous self-sacrifice of friendship or 
Christian aid. With palpitating bosom we follow Mary 
of Scotland in her midnight flighl from the custody 
of her stem jailers ; we accompany Grotius in his es- 
cape from prison, so adroitly promoted by his wife j 
we join Lavalette in his flight, aided also by his wife; 
and we offer our admiration and gratitude to Euger 
and Bollmann, who, imawed by the arbitrary ordinances 

i Roscoe, Life of Cervantes, pp. 81, 33, 308, 309. See also Haedo, His- 
toria de Argel. p. 1^5. I refer to Roscoe as the popular authority. His 
work i-> little more than a compilation from Navarrete and Sismondi. 



WHITE BLAVEEY IN THE BABBAB7 STATES. 423 

of Austria, strove heroically, though vainly, to rescue 
Lafayette from the dungeons of < Hinut z. The laws of 
Algiers, which sanctioned a cruel slavery, dooming to 
condign punishment all endeavors for freedom, and es- 
pecially all countenance of such endeavors, can no longer 
prevent our sympathy with Cervantes, not Less gallant 
than renowned, who strove so constantly and earnestly 
to escape his chains, — nor our homage to those Chris- 
tians also who did not fear to aid him, and to the good 
ecclesiastic who suffered in his cause. 1 

The efforts to escape from slavery in the Barbary 
States, so far as they can be traced, are lull of interest. 
Bach, also, has its Lesson for us at the present hour. The 
following is in the exact words of an early writer. 
"One John Fox, an expert mariner, and a good, ap- 
proved, and sufficient gunner, was (in the raigne of 
Queene Elizabeth) taken by the Turkes, and kept eigh- 
teene yeeres in most miserable bondage and slavery ; 
at the end df which time he espied his opportunity 
(and God assisting him withall), that lice slew Ids keeper, 
and tied tn the sea's side, where he found a gaily with 
one hundred and fifty captive Christians, which hee 
speedily waving their anchor, set saile, ami fell to worke 
like men, and safely arrived in Spaone, by which 
meanes he freed himselfc and a number of poore soules 
from long and intolerable servitude; after which the 
said John Fox came into England, and the Queene (being 
rightly informed of his bravi exploit) did graciously en- 
tertaine him for her servant, and allowed him >> yeerely 
pensi* 

1 Ar the time tliis I.octure was delivered, tlio Rev. Charles T. Torrey 

was a prisi r in the Penitentiary of Maryland, paying the penalty for aid 

t caping -lave-. 

2 Pnrchas'a Pilgrims, Vol. II. p. 868. 



424 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

There is also in the same early source a quaint de- 
scription of what occurred to a ship from Bristol, cap- 
tured by an Algerine corsair in 1621. The Englishmen 
were all taken out except four youths, over whom the 
Turks, as these barbarians are often called by early writ- 
ers, put thirteen of their own men, to conduct the ship 
as prize to Algiers ; and one of the pirates, " a strong, 
able, steine, and resolute fellow," was appointed captain. 
"These foure poore youths," so the story proceeds, 
"being thus fallen into the hands of mercilesse infidels, 
began to studie and complot all the meanes they could 
for the obtayning of their freedomes. First, they con- 
sidered the lamentable and miserable estates that they 
were like to be in, — as, to be debard for ever from see- 
ing their friends and countrey, to be chained, beaten, 
made slaves, and to eate the bread of affliction in the 
gallies, all the remainder of their unfortunate lives, to 
have their heads shaven, to feed on course dyet, to have 
hard boords for beds, and, which was worst of all, never 
to be partakers of the heavenly word and sacraments. 
Thus being quite hopelcsse, haplesse, and, for any thing 
they knew, for ever helplesse, they sayled live dayes 
and nights under the command of the pirats, when, 
on the tilth night, God, in his great mercy, shewed 
them a meanes for their wished for escape." A sud- 
den wind arose, when, the captain coming to help take 
in the mainsail, two of the English youths "suddenly 
tooke him by the breech and threw him over-boord; 
but by fortune hee fell into the bunt of the sayle, 
where, quickly catching hold of a. rope, he (being a, 
very strong man) had almost gotten into the ship 
againe, which John Cooke perceiving leaped speedily 
to the. pumpe and tooke off the pumpe brake or handle 



WHITE SLAVES? IN THE BABBABY STATES. 425 

and cast it to William Ling, bidding him knocke him 
downe, which be was not Long in doing, but, Lifting up 
the woodden weapon, he gave him such a pall on the p 
as made his braines forsake the possession of his head, 
with which bis body fell into the sea." The corsair 
slave-dealers were overpowered. The four English 
youths drove them " from place to place in the ship, and 
having coursed them from the poope to the forecastle, they 
there valiantly killed two of them, and gave another a 
dangerous wound or two, who, to escape the further fury 
of their swords, Leap'd suddenly over-boord to goe seeke 
his captaine." The other nine Turks ran between-decks, 
where they were securely fastened. The English now 
directed their course to St. Lucas, in Spain, and " in short 
time (by Gods ayde) happily and safely arrived at the 
said port, where they sold tit, nine Turkes for gally-slaves 
for a good sum/me of money, and, as I thinke, a great 
deale mure then they were worth" "He that shall attrib- 
ute such things as these to the arme of flesh and bloud," 
says the ancient historian, grateful for this triumph of 
freedom, "is forgetfull, ingratefull, and in a maimer 
atheistical! " l 

From the same authority I draw another narrative of 
singular success the following year. A company of Eng- 
lishmen, being captured and carried into Algiers, were sold 
a> slaves. These are the words of one of their number : 
" The souldiers hurru d us like dogs into the market, whi re as 
m< n sellhacknies in England we were. tossed up and downs 
to see who would give most for us; and although Wi had 
heavy hearts and looked with sad countenances, yet many 
came to behold us, sometimes taking us by the hand, some- 
time turning us roimd about, sometimes feeling our braumes 

i Pnichas'a Pilgrim-, Vol II. pp. 887, 888. 



426 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAEY STATES. 

and naked armes, and so beholding our prices written in 
our breasts, they bargained for us accordingly, and at last 
we were all sold." Shortly afterward several were put on 
board an Algerine corsair. One of them, John Rawlins, 
who resembled Cervantes in the hardihood of his exer- 
tions for freedom, — as, like him, he had lost the use of 
a hand, ■ — arranged an uprising on board. " ' Oh hell- 
ish slaverie,' " he said, "'to be thus subject to clegs! 
Oh, God strengthen my heart and hand, and something 
shall be done to ease us of these mischiefes, and deliver 
us from these cruell Mahumetan dogs.' The other slaves, 
pittying his distraction (as they thought), bad him speake 
softly, lest they should all fare the worse for his distem- 
perature. 'The worse,' (<pioth Rawlins,) 'what can be 
worse ? I will either attempt my deliverance at one time 
or another, or perish hi the enterprise.' " Seizing an 
auspicious moment, nine English slaves, besides John 
Rawlins, with other English, French, and Hollanders, 
" in all foure and twenty and a boy," succeeded, after 
a bloody contest, in overpowering five-and-forty Turks. 
" When all was done," the story proceeds, "and the ship 
cleared of the dead bodies, John Rawlins assembled his 
men together, and with one consent gave the praise unto 
( rod, using the accustomed service on ship-boord, and, for 
want of bookes, lifted up their voyces to God, as he put 
into their hearts or renewed their memories; then did 
they sing a psalme, and, last of all, embraced one another 
for playing the men in such a deliverance, whereby our 
feare was turned into joy, and trembling hearts exhilli- 
rated, thai we had escaped such inevitable dangers, and 
especially the slavery and terror of bondage worse then 

death it selfe. The same night we washed our ship, put 
every thing in as good order as we could, repaired the 



WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBAE! STATES. 427 

broken quarter, Bel up the biticle, and bore up the belme 
for England, where by Gods grace and good guiding we 
arrived al Plinimoth the thirteenth of February." 1 

In L685, Thomas Phelps and Edmund Baxter, Eng- 
lishmen, accomplished their escape from captivity at 
Mequinez. The latter had made a previous unsuccess- 
ful attempt, which drew upon him the bastinado, dis- 
abling him from work for a twelvemonth; "but, not- 
withstanding, such was his Love for Christian liberty," 
that he freely declared to his companion " that he would 
adventure with any fair opportunity." Eere the story is 
like one of our own day. By devious paths, journeying 
in the darkness of night, and by day sheltering themselves 
in hushes or in the branches of fig-trees, they at length 
reached the sea. With imminent risk of discovery, they 
succeeded in finding a boat not tar from Sallee. This 
they took without consulting the proprietor, and rowed 
to a distant ship, which, to their great joy. proved to be 
an English man-of-war. Making known the exposed 
situation of the Moorish ships at Mamora, they formed 
part of a night expedition in boats which hoarded and 
burnt them. "One Moor." says the account, "we found 
aboard, who was presently cut in pieces ; another was 
shot in the head, endeavoring to escape upon the cable. 
We were not Long in taking in our shavings and tar-bar- 
rels, and 90 set her on lire in several places, she being 
very apt to receive what we designed ; for there were 
several barrels of tar upon the deck, and she was newly 
tarred, as if on purpose. Whilst we were setting heron 
fire, we heard a noise of some people in the hold; we 
opened the skuttles, and thereby saved the Lives of four 
Christians, three Dutch-men and one French, who told 

i Purchaa'a Pilgrims, Vol. II. pp. 889-896. 



•428 "WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBARY STATES. 

us the ship on fire was admiral, and belonged to Aly- 
llackum, and the other, which we .soon after served with 
the same sauce, had the name oiPlummage Cortibe, which 
was the yery ship which in October last took me cap- 
tive." The Englishman, once a captive, who tells this 
story, says it is " most especially to move pity for the 
afflictions of Joseph, to excite compassionate regard to 
those poor country-men now languishing in misery and 
irons, to endeavor their releasement." 1 

Even the non-resistance of Quakers, animated by zeal 
for freedom, contrived to baffle these slave-dealers. A 
ship in the charge of these Christians became the prey of 
Algerines ; and the curious story is told, with details un- 
necessary here, of the manner in which the vessel was 
subsequently recaptured by the crew without loss of life. 
To complete this triumph, the slave-pirates were safely 
landed on their own shores, and allowed to go their way 
in peace, acknowledging with astonishment and grati- 
tude this new application of the Christian injunction to 
do good to them that hate you. On the return, Charles 
the Second, being at < rreenwich, and learning that " there 
was a Quaker ketch coming up the river, that had been 
taken by the Turks, and redeemed themselves without 
fighting," came to it in his barge, ami there hearing 
- how they had let the Turks go free," said to the mas- 
ter, with the spirit df a slave-dealer, "You have done 
like a fool, for you might have had good gain for them." 
And to the mate lie said, " You should have brought the 
Turks to me." " / thought it better for than to be in 
their (lira, country" was the Quaker's reply. 2 

1 A True Account of the Captivity of Thomas Phelps at Maohincss in 
Barbary, and of his Btrange Escape, in Company of Edmund Baxter and 
others: Osborne's Voyages, Vol. II. pp. 499-510. 

- Sewel, History of the Quakers, pp. 3W-3D7. 



WHITE SLAYER? IX THE BABBABY. STATE& 429 

l se axe English stories. Bui there is testimony also 
from Prance. A Catholic father furnishes a chapter en- 
titled, "Of some Slaves that made their Escape " ; and 
he begins by narrating the difficulties: how the slaves, 
before they start, Becure the assistance of certain Moors, 
called Metadores, "who promise to conduct them among 
Christians for a sum agreed on " ; how they journey all 
night, sheltering themselves during the day in woods, 
caves, or other retired places, always in dread, ami 
anxiously awaiting the return of darkness to cover 
their movements; how the flight is lun- ami weari- 
some, environed by perpetual hardship ami peril; how, 
if alone, there is danger of death mi the mountains, 
through hunger ami thirst, or from lions ami tigi 
ami how, if retaken, there is the fearful prospecl of 
being burned or cruelly bastinadoed, with a constant 
weight of irons while at their daily toil. "But their 
torments and dangers," says the lather, "are less dread- 
ful than the thoughts of living all their days in that 
miserable slavery." J 

Then comes the narrative of two Frenchmen who 
with incredible effort journeyed one hundred and fifty 
leagues, being on the road eighteen nights "without 
eating anything considerable," and were at last so aear 
their liberty as to see a town belonging to the king of 
Portugal, making them forget their fatigues, when they 
were unhappily retaken, hurried back to their master, 
loaded with irons, ami condemned to double labor. 
A- they were studying a second escape, they were re- 
lieved by death, that constant friend of the slave. This 
narrative is followed by that of two other Frenchmen, 
-who commenced their escape on the 2d of October, L693, 

1 Busuot, History of the Reign of Muk-y I.-muel, Chap. VII. p. 171. 



430 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

"having no other guide than the North Star to direct 
their course." And here ensues that succession of trials 
which is the lot of the fugitive slave, all of which is 
told at length. There was peril in leaving the city and 
passing the outer guards ; but when this was dune, then 
came the desert, with its rocks and precipices, where 
they met "some tigers and many lions," making it 
hideous with their roaring ; hut worse than tiger or lion 
was the fiery thirst that pursued them ; and worse than 
all was man, for it was from him that they feared most. 
They, too, found themselves in sight of the liberty they 
had sought with such pain, when, like their predecessors, 
tl icy were retaken and hurried back. Asked why they 
had tied, they answered, "For the sake of liberty, and 
we are guilty of no other crime." Burdened with 
heavy chains, they were again put to work, with the 
threat of being burned alive, if they attempted the like 
again. But notwithstanding all this terrible experience 
and the menace of death by the flames, they made an- 
other attempt, " preferring," says the ( Jatholic father, " all 
perils and hardships before the insupportable burden el 
their captivity." Again they failed, and were carried 
back tn fearful torment, when at last they were ransomed 
by the mission in the name of the French monarch. 1 

In the current of time other instances occurred. A 
letter from Algiers, dated August 6, 1772, and pie- 
served in the British Annual Register, furnishes the 
following story. "A most remarkable escape," it says, 
"of seme Christian prisoners has lately been effected 
here, which will undoubtedly cause those that have net 
had thai good fortune to be treated with tin; utmost 
rigor. On the morning el' the L'Tth of July, the Dey 

i Busnot, History of the Reign of Muley Ismael, p. 184. 



WHITE M.WI.KY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 131 

was informed thai all the christian slaves had escaped 
over-nighl in a galley. This news soon raised him, and, 

upon inquiry, it was found to have been a prec «rted 

plan. About ten at night, seventy-four slaves, who had 
found means to escape from their masters, met in a large 
square near the gate which opens to the harbor, and, 
being well armed, they soon forced the guard to submit, 
and, to prevent their raising the city, confined them all 
in the powder-magazine. They then proceeded to the 
lower part of the harbor, where they embarked on board 
a large rowing polacre, thai was left there for the pur- 
pose, and, the tide ebbing out, they fell gently down 
with it, and passed both the forts. As soon as this was 
known, three large galleys were ordered oui after them, 
but to no purpose. They returned in three days, with 
the news of seeing the polacre sail into Barcelona, 
where the galleys durst not go to attack her." ' 

The same historic authority records another triumph 
of freedom. "Forty-six captives," it says, at the date 
of September 3, L776, "who were employed to draw 
stones from a quarry some leagues' distance from Al- 
giers, at a place named ( ienova, resolved, if possible, 
to recover their liberty, and yesterday took advantage 
of the idleness and inattention of forty men who were 
to guard them, and who had laid down their arms, 
and were rambling aboul the shore. The captives at- 
tacked them with pick-axe- and other tools, and made 

themselves masters of their arms; and having killed 
thirty-three of the forty, and eleven of the thirteen 
sailors who were in the boal which carried the stones, 
they obliged the resl to jump into the sea. Being then 
masters of the boat, and armed with twelve muskets, 

1 Annual I; isti r Vol XV. ]). 130]. 



432 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

two pistols, and powder, &c, they set sail, and had the 
good fortune to arrive here [at Palma, the capital of Ala- 
jorca] this morning, where they are performing quaran- 
tine. Sixteen of them are Spaniards, seventeen French, 
eight Portuguese, three Italians, one a German, and one 
a Sardinian." 1 Here, as in other cases, I copy the pre- 
cise language of the authority, without adding a word. 
These simple stories show how captives have escaped 
and the world has sympathized. 

AMERICAN VICTIMS. 

Thus far I have followed the efforts of European na- 
tions, and the struggles of European victims of White 
Slavery. I pass now to America, and to our own coun- 
try. In the name of fellow-countryman there is a 
charm of peculiar power. The story of his sorrows will 
come nearer to our hearts, and, perhaps, to the experi- 
ence of individuals or families among us, than the story 
of distant Spaniards, Frenchmen, or Englishmen. Nor 
are materials wanting. 

I n earliest days, while the Colonies yet contended with 
savage Indians, families were compelled to mourn the 
hapless fate of brothers, fathers, and husbands doomed 
to slavery in distanl African Barbary. Five years after 
the Landing al Plymouth, a returning ship, already "shol 
deep into the English Channel," was "taken by a Turks 
man-of-war and carried into Sallee, where the master and 
men were made slaves," while a consort ship with Miles 
Standish aboard narrowly escaped this fate. 2 In 1640, 
"one Austin, a man of good estate," returning discon- 

1 Annual Register, Vol. XIX. p. 176]. 

2 Morton, Now England's Memorial, p. G2. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN Tin: BARBARY STATES. 433 

tented to England from Quinipiack, now New Haven, on 
his way " was taken by the Turks, and Austin and his 
wife and family were carried to Algiers, and sold there 
for slaves." ' Under date of L671, in the diary of Rev. 
John Eliot, first minister of Roxbury and devoted apostle 
to the Indians, prefixed to the records of the church in 
that town, and still preserved in manuscript, these few 

Words tell a Story of SOrrOW: "We heard the sad and 

heavy tidings concerning the captivity of Captain Foster 
and his son at Sallee." From further entries it appears 
that they were redeemed after a bondage of three years. 
The same record shows other victims forwhom the sym- 
pathies of the church and neighborhood were enlisted. 
Here is one : " 20 10 1674. This Sabbath we had a 
public collection for Edward Howard, of Boston, to re- 
deem him out of his sad Turkish captivity, in which 
collection was gathered 12/. 18s. 9d. which by (lod's 
favor made up the just sum desired." Not Ion;.; after, 
at a date left uncertain, it appears that William Bowen 
"Was taken by the Turks"; a contribution was made for 
his redemption, " and the people went to the public box, 
young and old, but, before the money could answer the 
end for which the congregation intended it," tidings came 
of the deuth of the unhappy captive, and the contribu- 
tion was afterwards "improved to build a tomb for the 
town to inter their ministers." 2 Money collected for 
emancipation buill the tomb of the Roxbury ministers. 

[nstances now thicken. A ship, sailing from I iharles- 
town, in L678, was taken by a corsair, and carried into 
Algiers, whence it- passengers and crew never returned. 
They probably died in slavery. Among these was Dan- 

1 Winthrop's Journal, Vol. II. p. 12. 

2 Records of First Church in Roxbury, MS. 

VOL. I. 19 BB 



434 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BAKBARY STATES. 

iel Mason, a graduate of Harvard University, and the 
earliest of that name on the Catalogue; also, James Ell- 
son, the mate. The latter, in a testamentary letter to 
his wife, dated at Algiers, June 30, 1679, desires her to 
redeem out of captivity two of his companions. 1 At the 
same period, William Harris, a person of consequence in 
the Colony, an associate of Roger Williams in the first 
planting of Providence, and now in the sixty-eighth 
year of his age, sailing from Boston for England on pub- 
lic business, was also taken by a corsair and carried into 
Algiers. On the 23d February, 1679, this veteran, — 
older than the slaveholder Cato, when he learned Greek, 
— together with all the crew, was sold into slavery. 
The fate of his companions is unknown ; but Mr. Har- 
ris, after bearing his doom more than a year, was re- 
deemed at the cost of twelve hundred dollars, called by 
him " the price of a good farm." The feelings of the 
Colony, touched by these disasters, are concisely ex- 
pressed in a private letter dated at Boston, November 
10, 1080, where it is said : "The Turks have so taken our 
New England ships, richly loaden, homeward bound, that 
it is very dangerous to goe. Many of our neighbors are 
now in captivity in Argeer. The Lord find out some 
way for their redemption !" 2 This prayer may be re- 
peated still. 

In L693 the sulijeet found its way before the ( lovernor 
and Council of Massachusetts, on a petition from the re- 
lations of two inhabitants " some time since taken by a 
Sal lee man-of-war, and now under Turkish captivity and 
slavery," for permission "to ask and receive the charity 
and public contribution of well-disposed persons for re- 

l Mi. Ml, -ex Probate Files, MS. 

- William Gilbert to Arthur Bridge, MS. 



WHITE SLAVEBY IN THE BAEBARY BTATES. 1 35 

deeming them out of their miserable suffering and slav- 
ery." The petition was granted oe the condition, " The 
money so collected to be employed forthe end aforesaid, 
unless the said persons happen to die before, make their 
pe,or 1"' in any other way redeemed ; then the money 
so gathered to be improved forthe redemption of some 
others of this Province, thai are or may be in like cir- 
cumstances, as the Governor and Council shall direct." 1 
Thus was the governmenl of Massachusetts moved at 
that raily day to emancipation 

Entering the next century, we meet a curious notice 
of a captive Bostonian Under date of Tuesday, Janu- 
ary 11, L 714, Chief-Justice Samuel Sewall, after describ- 
ing in his journal a dinner with Mr. Gee, and mention- 
ing the guests, among whom were [ncrease and Cotton 
Mather, adds: "It seems it was in remembrance of his 
landing this day at Boston, after his Algerine captivity. 
Had a good treat. Dr. Cotton Mather, in returning 
thanks, very "well comprised many weighty things very 
pertinently." 2 Among the many weighty things very 
pertinently comprised by this eminent divine, it is 
hoped, was condemnation of slavery. Surely, he could 
not then have shrunk from giving utterance to that 
faith which preaches deliverance to the captive. 

Leaving the imperfect records of colonial days, I de- 
scend at once to that period, almost in the light of our 
own time-, when our National Government, justly care- 
ful ef the liberty of its white citizens, was aroused to put 
I'. iih all its power. The war of the Revolution closed 
with the acknowledgment of independence. The na- 

1 Council Records, foL 323. See .Tuck-on v. Phillips, l-t Allen's Sep. 
559. 

2 Journal of Chief-Justice Samuel Sewall, MS. 



436 WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBARY STATES. 

tional flag, then freshly unfurled, and hardly known to 
the world, had little power to protect persons or property 
againsl outrages from the Barbary States. Within three 
years no less than ten American vessels became their 
pity. At one time an apprehension prevailed that Dr. 
franklin was captured. "We are waiting," said one 
of his French correspondents, "with the greatest impa- 
tience to hear from you. The newspapers have given us 
anxiety on your account, for some of them insist that 
you have been taken by the Algerines, while others pre- 
tend that you are at Morocco, enduring your slavery with 
all the patience of a philosopher." 1 The property of 
our merchants was sacrificed. Insurance at Lloyd's in 
London could be had only at advanced rates, while it 
was difficult to obtain freight for American bottoms. 2 
The Mediterranean trade was closed against our enter- 
prise. To a people filled with the spirit of commerce, 
and bursting with new life, this in itself was disheart- 
ening; but the sufferings of unhappy fellow-citizens, 
captives in a distant land, awoke a feeling of a higher 
strain. 

As from time to time these tidings reached America, 
a voice of horror and indignation swelled through the 
la ml. The slave-corsairs of African Barbary were 
branded sometimes as "internal crews," sometimes as 
"human harpies." 3 This sentiment acquired new force, 
when, at tw.i different periods, by the fortunate escape 
of captives, whal seemed to he an authentic picture of 
their condition was presented to the world. The story 

i .M. Le Veillard to Dr. Franklin, October 9, 1785: Sparks's Franklin, 
Vol. X. p. 230. 

2 Boston Independent Chronicle, April 28, May 12, October 20, Novcm- 

. November 17, 1785; March 2, April 27, I7s>;. 

3 Ibid., -May 18, 17^6. Sparks's Franklin, Vol. IX. p. 507. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAE 1 ! STATES. 431 

of these fugitives Bhows the hardships of their lot, and 
was at the bottom of the appeal soon made to the coun- 
try \\ itli such effect 

The earliest of these escapes was in 1788, by a per- 
son originally captured in a vessel from Huston. It ap- 
pears, that, on being carried into Algiers, he, with the 
rest of the ship's company, was exposed at public auc- 
tion, whence he was sent tu the country-house of his 
purchaser. Eere for eighteen months he was chained to 
the wheelbarrow, and allowed only one pound of bread 
a day. during all which wretched period he had uo op- 
portunity of Learning the fate of his companions. From 
the country he was removed to Algiers, where, in a nu- 
merous company of white slaves, he encountered three 
shipmates and twenty-six other Americans. After re- 
maining for sometime crowded together in the slave-pris- 
on, they were all distributed among the different galleys 
of the Dey. Ourfugitive and eighteen other white slaves 
were put on board a xebec, carrying eight six-pounders 
and sixty men, which, while cruising n the coast of 
Malta, encountered an armed vessel of Genoa, and, af- 
ter much bloodshed, was taken, sword in hand. Eleven 
of the unfortunate slaves, compelled to this unwelcome 
service in the cause nf a tyrannical master, were killed 
before the triumph of the Genoese could deliver them 
from chains. Our countryman and the few remaining 
alive were at once set at liberty, and, it is said, " treated 
with that humanity which distinguishes the Christian 
from the barbarian." ' Such is the testimony. 

This escape was followed the next year by others, 
achieved under circumstances widely different. A ship 

1 Boston Independent Chronic].'. Oct. 16, 1788. History of the War 
between the United States and Tripoli, pp. 59, 60. 



438 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BAIiBAKY STATES. 

from Philadelphia was captured near the Western Islands 
and taken into Algiers. The crew of twenty-two were 
doomed to bondage. The larger part were sent into the 
country and chained to work with mules. Others were 
put on board a galley and chained to the oars. The lat- 
ter, tempted by facilities of position near the sea, made 
attempts to escape, which, for a time, proved fruitless. 
At last, love of freedom triumphing over suggestions of 
humanity, they rose upon their overseers, killing some 
and confining others, then, seizing a small galley of 
their masters, set sail for Gibraltar, where in a few hours 
they landed as freemen. 1 Thus, by killing their keep- 
ers and carrying off property not their own, did these 
fugitive white slaves achieve then liberty. 

AMERICAN EFFORTS AGAINST WHITE SLAVERY. 

Such stories could not be recounted in vain. Glimps- 
es opened into the dread regions of Slavery gave a 
harrowing reality to all that conjecture or imagination 
pictured. It was, indeed, true, that our own white 
brethren, heirs to freedom newly purchased by precious 
blood, partakers in the sovereignty of citizenship, be- 
longing to the fellowship of the christian Church, were 
degraded to do the will of an arbitrary taskmaster, sold 
as beasts of the field, galled by manacle and driven by 
lash ! It was true that they were held at market prices, 
and that their only chance of freedom was in the earnest, 
energetic, united efforts of their countrymen. It is not 
easy to comprehend the exact condition to which they 
were reduced. There is no reason to believe that it dif- 

1 Bistory of the War between the United States and Tripoli, pp. 63, 63. 
American Museum, lT'.m, Part II. Vol. VIII. Appendix IV. pp. 4, 5. 



WHITE si.Avr.KV jn THE BABBABV. STATES, 439 

fered materially from thai of other captives in Alg iers, 
Masters of vessels were Lodged together, and indulged 
with a table by themselves, though a small iron ring 
was attached to one of their Legs, to denote that they 
were slaves. Seamen were taught and obliged to work 
at the trade of carpenter, blacksmith, or stone-mason, 
from six in the morning till four in the afternoon, with- 
out intermission, except foi half an hour at dinner. 1 
Doubtless there is exaggeration in the accounts trans- 
mitted to us. It is, however, sufficient to know that 
they were slaves ; nor is there any other human condi- 
tion which, when barely mentioned, even without our 
word of description, so strongly awakens the sympathies 
of every just and enlightened Lover of his race. 

To secure their freedom, informal agencies were 
promptly established under the direction of our min- 
ister at Paris; and the Society of Redemption — whose 
beneficent exertions, commencing so early in modem 
history, were still continued — offered their aid. Our 
agents were hlandly entertained by that great slave- 
dealer, the Dey of Algiers, who informed them that he 
was familiar with the exploits of Washington, and, never 
expecting to see him, expressed a hope, that, through 
Congress, he might receive a full-length portrait of this 
hem of freedom, to he displayed in his palace at Al- 
giers. The Dey clung to his American slaves, holding 
them at prices considered exorbitant, being, in 1786, 
•00 for the master of a vessel, $ 4,000 tor a mate, 
S l.i mi) for a passenger, and S 1,400 for a seaman ; while 
the agents were authorized to offei only $200 for each. 2 
In 1790 the tariff seems to have fallen. Meanwhile 

1 History of the War between the United States and Tripoli, p. 52. 
- Lyman's Diplomacy, Vol. II. i>i>. 353, 354. 



440 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

one obtained his freedom through private means, others 
escaped, and others still were liberated by the great lib- 
era! nr, Death. The following list, if not interesting from 
the names of the captives, will at least be curious as ■ 
evidence of prices at that time in the slave-market. 

Creio of the Ship Dolphin, of Philadelphia, captured 
July 30, 1785. 

Sequins. 

Richard O'Brien, master, price demanded . . 2,000 

Andrew Montgomery, mate . . . . 1,500 

Jacob Tessanier, French passenger . . . 2,000 

William Patterson, seaman (keeps a tavern) . 1,500 

Philip Sloan, " 725 

Peleg Loring, "..... 725 

John Robertson, " 725 

James Hall, " 725 

Crew of the Schooner Maria, of Boston, captured 
Job/ 25, 1785. 

Isaac Stevens, master (of Concord, Mass.) . . 2,000 
Alexander Forsythe, mate .... 1,500 

James Cathcart, seaman (keeps a tavern) . . 900 
George Smith, " (in the Dey's house) . 725 

John Gregory, " . . . . . . 725 

James Hermit, "..... 725 



16,475 
Duty on the above sum, ten per cent . . 1,047^ 

Sundry gratifications to officers of the Dey's 

household 240£ 



Sequins 18,3G2£ 
This Bum being equal to $34,792. 1 

1 History of the War between the United States and Tripoli, pp. 64, 65. 
Lyman's Diplomacy, Vol. II. pp. 357, 358. 



WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BABBARY STATES. 441 

In 1793 no less than one hundred and fifteen <>f 
our fellow-citizens were groaning in Algerine slavery. 
Their condition excited the fraternal feeling of the 
whole people, while it occupied the anxious attention 
of Congress and the prayers of the clergy. A petition 
from these unhappy persons, dated a1 Algiers, December 
29, L793, was addressed to Congress. "Tour petition- 
ers," il says, "are a1 present captives in this city of 
bondage, employed daily in the must laborious work, 
without any respect to persons. They pray that you 
will take their unfortunate situation into consideration, 
and adopt such measures as will restore the American 
captives to their country, their friends, families, and 
connections; and your most humble petitioners will 
ever pray and be thankful." 1 The action of Congress 
was sluggish, compared with the patriot desires throb- 
bing through the country. 

Appeals of a different character were now addressed 
to the country at large, and these were efficiently aided 
by Colonel Humphreys, the friend and companion of 
Washington, who was at the time our minister in Portu- 
gal. Taking advantage of the common passion for lot- 
teries, and particularly of the custom, not then con- 
demned, of employing them to obtain money for literary 
or benevolent purposes, he proposed a grand lottery, 
sanctioned by the Tinted States, or particular lotteries 
sanctioned by individual States, to obtain the freedom 
of our countrymen. He then asks, "Is there within 
the limits of these Tinted States an individual who will 
not cheerfully contribute, in proportion to his means, to 
carry it into effect I By the peculiar blessings of free- 
dom which you enjoy, by the disinterested sacrifices you 

1 Lyman's Diplomacy, Vol. II. pp. 359, 360. 
" 19* 



442 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BAItBARY STATES. 

made for its attainment, by the patriotic blood of those 
martyrs of liberty who died to secure your indepen- 
dence, and by all the tender ties of nature, let me con- 
jure you once more to snatch your unfortunate country- 
men from fetters, dungeons, and death." 

This appeal was followed by a petition from American 
captives in Algiers, addressed to ministers of every 
denomination throughout the United States, praying 
help. Beginning with an allusion to the day of national 
thanksgiving appointed by President Washington, it 
asks the clergy to set apart the Sunday preceding that 
day for sermons, to be delivered .simultaneously through- 
out the country, pleading for their brethren in bonds. 

" Reverend and Respected, — 

" On Thursday, the 19th of February, 1795, you are en- 
joined by the President of the United States of America to 
appear in the various temples of that God who heareth the 
groaning of the prisoner, and in mercy remembereth those 
who are appointed to die. 

" Nor are ye to assemble alone ; for on this, the high day 
of continental thanksgiving, all the religious societies and 
denominations throughout the Union, and all persons whom- 
soever within the limits of the confederated States, arc to 
enter the courts of Jehovah, with their several pastors, and 
gratefully to lender unfeigned thanks to the Ruler of Nations 
for the manifold and signal mercies which distinguish your 
lotas a people: in a more particxilar manner, commemorat- 
ing V«'ur exemption from foreign war; being greatly thank- 
ful for the preservation of peace at home and abroad ; and 
fervently beseeching the kind Author of all these blessings 
graciously to prolong them to you, and finally to render the 
I nitcd States of America more and more an asylum fur the 
unfortunate of every clime under heaven. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAE? BTATES. 4 13 

• /,' i( rt nd and Respected, — 

•• Must fervent are our daily prayers, breathed in the sin- 
oeritj of woes unspeakable, mosl anient are the embittered 
aapirationa of our afflicted spirits, that thus it may be in deed 
and in truth. Although we arc prisoners in a foreign laud, 
although we are far, very far, from <>ur native homes, all bough 
our harps are hung upon the weeping-willows of Slavery, 
nevertheless America is still preferred above our chiefeBtjoy, 
and the last wish of our departing souls shall be her peace, 
her prosperity, her liberty forever. <>n this day, the day of 
festivity and gladness, remember us, your unfortunate breth- 
ren, late members of the family of freedom, now doomed to 
perpetual confinement Pray, earnestly pray, thai our griev- 
ous calamities may have a gracious end. SupplicaU the Father 
of Mercies for the most wretched of his offspring. Beseech 
the God of all Consolation to comfort us by tin- //<,/«> of final 
restoration. Implore the Jesus whom you worship to open the 
house of the prison. Entreat the Christ whom you adore to 
let the miserable captives go free. 

u Reverend and Inspected, — 

"It is not your prayers alone, although of much avail, 
which we beg on the bending knee of sufferance, galled by 
the corroding fetters of slavery. We conjure you by the 
bowels of the mercies of the Almighty, we ask you in the 
name of your Father in Heaven, to have compassion on our 
miseries, to wipe away the crystallized tears of despondence, 
to hush the heartfelt sigh of distress, and, by every possible 
exertion of godlih charity, to restore us to our wives, to our 
children, to our friends, to our God and to yours. 

" Is it possible that a stimulus can be wanting 1 Forbid 
it. the example of a dying, bleeding, crucified Saviour! 
Forbid it, the precepts of a risen, ascended, glorified Em- 
manuel! Do unto us in fetters, in bonds, in dungeons, n< 
dangi r of the pestilt nee, as ye yourselves would wish to be done 
unto. Lift up your voices like a trumpet ; cry aloud in the 



444 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAEY STATES. 

cause of humanity, benevolence, philosophy : eloquence can 
never he directed t<> a nobler purpose ; religion never employed 
in a more glorious cause; charity never meditate a more ex- 
alted flight. Oh that a live coal from the burning altar of 
celestial beneficence might warm the hearts of the sacred 
order, and impassion the feelings of the attentive hearer ! 

" Gentlemen of the Clergy in New Hampshire, Rhode Island, 
Massachusetts, Sen: York, Pennsylvania, and Virginia, — 

" Your most zealous exertions, your unremitting assidu- 
ities, are pathetically invoked. Those States in which you 
minister unto the Church of God gave us birth. We are 
as aliens from the commonwealth of America. We are 
strangers to the temples of our God. The strong arm of 
infidelity hath bound us with two chains ; the iron one of 
slavery and the sword of death are entering our very souls. 
Arise, ye ministers of the Most High, Christians of every de- 
nomination, awake unto charity / Let a brief, setting forth our 
hapless situation, be published throughout the continent. Be it 
read in every house of ivorshij) on Sunday, the 8th of February. 
Command a preparatory discourse to be di livi red on Sunday, 
the 15th of February, in all churches whithersoever this peti- 
tion or the brief may come ; and on Thursday, the 19th of 
February, complete the godlike work. It is a day which as- 
sembles a continent to thanksgiving ; it is a day which calls 
an empire to praise. God grant, that this may be the day 
which emancipates the forlorn captive, and may the best 
blessings of those who are ready to perish be your abiding 
portion forever ! Thus prays a small remnant who are still 
alive ; thus pray your fellow-citizens, chained to the galleys 
of the impostor Mahomet. 

" Signed for and in behalf of his fellow-sufferers by 

" Richabd O'Brien, 

" /// the tenth year of his captivity.'' l 

1 History of tin,' \V:ir between the United States and Tripoli, pp. G9-71. 



WHITE BLAVEBY IX THE BARBARY STATES. 445 

The cause which inspired this appeal will indi 
the candid reader to any criticism of its exuberanl Lan- 
guage. Like the drama of Cervantes setting forth the 
horrors of the galleys of Algiers, it was "nol drawn 
from the imagination, but was born far from the regions 
of fiction, in the very heart of truth." 1 Its earnesl ap- 
peals were calculated to touch the soul, and to make the 
very name of slavery and slave-dealer detestable. 



PARALLEL BETWEEN SLAVERY IX ALGIERS AND IN 
01 R <>WN COUNTRY. 

I SHOULD do injustice to truth, if I did not suspend 
for one moment the narrative of this Anti-Slavery 
movement, to exhibit the pointed parallel then recog- 
nized hut ween slavery in Algiers and slavery in our 
own country. It belongs to this history. Conscience 
could not plead for the emancipation of white fellow- 
citizens, without confessing in the heart, perhaps to the 
world, thai every consideration, every argument, every 
appeal for the white man, told with equal force for the 
wretched colored brother in bonds. Thus the interest 
awakened for the slave in Algiers embraced also the 
slave at home. Sometimes they were said to be alike 
in condition ; sometimes, Indeed, it was openly declared 
that the horrors of our American slavery surpassed that 
of Algiers. 

John Wesley, the oracle of Methodism, who had be- 
come familiar with slavery in our Southern States, ad- 
dressing those engaged in the negro slave-trade, declared 
as early as 1774 : "You have carried the survivors into 
the vilest slavery, never to end but with life, — such 

1 Los Bafios de Argel. 



446 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

slavery as is not found among the Turks at Algiers." l 
Another writer in 1704, when sympathy with the 
American captives was at its height, presses the parallel 
in pungent terms. " For thiS practice of buying and 
selling slaves," he says, " we are not entitled to charge 
the Algerines with any exclusive degree of barbarity. 
The Christians of Europe and America carry on this 
commerce one hundred times more extensively than the 
Algerines. It has received a recent sanction from the 
immaculate Divan of Britain. Nobody seems even to 
be surprised by a diabolical kind of advertisements 
which for some months past have frequently adorned 
the newspapers of Philadelphia. The French fugitives 
from the "West Indies have brought with them a crowd 
of slaves. These most injured people sometimes run 
off, and their master advertises a reward for apprehend- 
ing them. At the same time we are commonly informed 
that his sacred name is marked in capitals on their 
breasts, — or, in plainer terms, it is stamped on that part 
of the body with a red-hot iron. Before, therefore, we 
reprobate the ferocity of the Algerines, we should in- 
quire whether it is not possible to find in some other 
region of this globe a systematic brutality still more 
disgraceful." 2 

Not long after the address t t..j clergy by the cap- 
fcives in Algiers, a voice came from New Hampshire, in a 
trad entitled " Tyrannical Libert vmen, a Discourse upon 

Negro Slavery in the United States, composed at 

in New Hampshire on the late Federal Thanksgiving 
Day," 8 which docs not hesitate to brand American 

1 'I'll i Slavery ( 1774), p. 24. 

2 Short Account of Algiers | Philadelphia, 1794), p. is. 

■■ From ill' 1 Eagle Office, Hanover, New Bampshire, 1705. 



WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBAE* STATES. lit 

slavery in terms of glowing reprobation. "There was 
a contribution upon this day," it says, •• for the purpose 
nf redeeming those Americans who are in slavery at 
Algiers, — an objecl worthy of a generous people. 
Their redemption, we hope, is no1 tar distant. Bui 
Bhould any person contribute money for this purpose 
which he had cudgelled ou1 <>!' a negro slave, he would 
deserve less applause than an actor in the comedy of 

Las Casas When will Americans show that they 

are what they afifecl to be thought, — friends to the 
cause of humanity at large, reverers of the rights of 
their fellow-creatures? Bitherto we have been op- 
pressors, nay, murderers! — for many a negro has died 
by the whip of his master, ami many have lived when 
death would have been preferable. Surely the curse 
of God and the reproach of man is against us. Worse 
than the seven plagues of Egypl will befall us. If 
Algiers shall he punished seven fold, truly America sev- 
enty and seven fold." These words might not imperti- 
nently he uttered in our present debates. 

To this excitement we are indebted for the story of 
"The Algerine Captive," which, though now forgotten, 
was among the earliest literary productions of our coun- 
try, reprinted in London at a time when few American 
books were known abroad. Published anonymously, 
it is recognized as from the pen of Royal] Tyler, after- 
wards Chief Justice of Vermont. In the form of a 
narrative of personal adventures, extending through 
two volume-, a slave of Algiers depicts the horrors 
of his condition. Tn this regard it is not unlike the 
recent story of w Archy Moure," displaying the hor- 
rors of American slavery. The narrator, while engaged 
as surgeon on hoard a ship in the African slavc-ti. 



448 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBABY STATES. 

has an opportunity which he does not neglect. After 
describing the reception of the poor negroes, he says: 
" I cannot reflect on this transaction yet, without shud- 
dering. I have deplored my conduct with tears of an- 
guish ; and 1 pray a merciful God, the Common Parent 
of the great family of the universe, who hath made of 
one flesh and one blood all nations of the earth, that the 
miseries, the insults, and cruel woundings I afterwards 
received, when a slave myself, may expiate for the inhu- 
manity I was necessitated to exercise towards these my 
brethren of the human race." 1 He further records his 
meditations and resolves, while yet a captive of the Al- 
anines. "Grant me," he says, from the depths of his 
own misfortune, "once more to taste the freedom of my 
native country, and every moment of my life shall he 
dedicated to preaching against this detestable commerce. 
I will fly to our fellow-citizens in the Southern States; 
I will, on my knees, conjure them, in the name of hu- 
manity, to abolish a traffic which causes it to bleed in 
every pore. If they are deaf to the pleadings of Nature, 
I will conjure them, for the sake of consistency, to cease 
to deprive their fellow-creatures of freedom, which their 
writers, their orators, representatives, senators, and even 
their constitutions of government, have declared to be 
the unalienable birthright of man." 2 This is sound 
and significant. 

Not merely in the productions of literature and in fu- 
gitive essays was such comparison presented ; it was set 
forth on an important occasion in the history of our 
country, by one of her most illustrious citizens. The 
opportunity occurred in a complaint against England 
for carrying away from New York certain negroes, in 

i Chap. XXX. Vol. I. p. 198. 2 chap. XXXII. Vol. I. p. 213. 



WHITE SLAVER? IN THE BARBAE? STATE8. 449 

alleged violation of the treaty of L783. In an elaborate 
paper, John Jay, at thai time Secretary for Foreign 
Affairs under the Confederation, says : "Whether men 
can be so degraded, as, under any circumstances, to be 
with propriety denominated goods and chattels, and under 
that Ldea capable of becoming booty, La a question mi 
which opinions are unfortunately various, even in coun- 
tries professing Christianity and respect for the rights 
nikiinl." Be then proceeds in words worthy of 
special remembrance at this time: "If a war should take 
place between France ami Algiers, and in the course of 
it France should invite the American slaves there to 
run away from their masters, and actually receive and 
protect them in their camp, what would Congress, and 
indeed the world, think ami 3ay of France, it', on making 
peace with Algiers, she should give up those American 
slaves to their formeT Algerine masters '. Is there any 
other difference between tin- two cases than this, namely, 
that the American si, ins at Algiers are white i>'<,jiI<, 
whereas the African slaves at New Yuri,- were BLACK 
'people?" Introducing these sentiments, the Secretary 
remarks: "lie i- aware he is about to say unpopular 
things; hut higher motives than personal considera- 
tions press him to proceed," l Words worthy of John 
Jay : 

The same comparison was also instituted by the 
Aholition Society of Pennsylvania, in an address to 
the Convention which framed the National Constitu- 
tion "The sufferings of our American brethren groan- 
ing in captivity at Algiers," it says, "Providenc 
to have- ordained to awaken us I., a sentiment of the 
injustice and cruelty of which we are guilty towards 

i Secret Journals of Con. - . 1786, Vol. IV. pp. 274-279. 

cc 



450 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAEY STATES. 

the wretched Africans." 1 Shortly afterwards it was 
again brought forward by Dr. Franklin, in an ingenious 
apologue, with all his peculiar humor, simplicity, logic, 
and humanity. As President of the same Abolition So- 
ciety which had already addressed the Convention, he 
signed a memorial to the earliest Congress under the 
Constitution, praying it "to countenance the restora- 
tion of liberty to those unhappy men who alone in this 
land of freedom are degraded into perpetual bondage," 
and to "step to the very verge of the power vested in 
them for discouraging every species of traffic in the per- 
sons of our fellow-men." 2 In the congressional debates 
on the presentation of this memorial, — memorable not 
only for its intrinsic importance as a guide to the 
country, but as the final public act of a chief among 
the founders of our national institutions, — several at- 
tempts were made to justify slavery and the slave- 
trade. The last and almost dying energies of Franklin 
were excited. In a remarkable document, written only 
twenty-four days before his death, and published in 
the journals of the time, he gave a parody of a -peech 
actually delivered in Congress, — transferring the scene 
in Ugiers, and putting the congressional eloquence in 
the mouth of a corsair slave-dealer, inveighing before 
the Divan against a petition from the Purists or Abo- 
litionists of Algiers. All the arguments adduced in 
favor of negro slavery are applied by the Algerine ora- 
tor with equal force to justify the plunder and enslave- 
ment of whites. 3 "With this protest against a great 
wrong, Franklin died. 

Most certainly we are aided in appreciation of Amer- 

i Brissot's Travels, Letter XXII. Vol. I. p. 253. 

•J Anna o Congress, 1st < long. 2d Sess. Vol. II. col. 1198. 

8 Sparks' a franklin. Vol. II. p. 517. 



Will IT. SLAVES'? IN Till: I'.AKI'.AKY MAILS. 1 .", 1 

Lean slavery, when we know thai ii was Likened, by 
characters like Wesley, Jay, and Franklin, to the abom- 
ination of slavery in Algiers. But whatever may have 
been the influence of this parallel on the condition of 
the black slaves, it did qo1 check the rising sentiments 
of tlif people against White Slavery. 

DOTTED STATES AROUSED AGAINST WHITE SLAVERY. 

'I'm-: country was aroused. A general contribution 
was proposed. The cause of our brethren was pleaded in 
churches, and uol forgotten at the festive board. At all 
public celebrations, the toasts "Happiness lor all" and 
"Universal Liberty," were proposed, nol more in sym- 
pathy with Frenchmen struggling for human rights than 
with our own wretched white fellow-countrymen in 
bonds. On one occasion 1 they were distinctly remem- 
bered in the following toast: "Our brethren in slavery 
at Algiers. May the measures adopted for their re- 
demption lie successful, and may they live to rejoice with 
their friends in the blessings of liberty!" Generous 
Monls, apt for all in bonds .' 

Meanwhile the efforts of the National Governmenl 
continued. President Washington, in his speech to Con- 
gress, delivered in person to both houses in the Repre- 
sentatives' Chamber, December 8, 1795, said: "With 
peculiar satisfaction I add, that information has been 
received from an agent deputed on our part to Al_ 
importing thai the terms of the treaty with the Dey 
and Regency of that country had been adjusted in such 
a manner as to authorize the expectation of a speedy 

1 At Portsmouth, X. II., :it a public entertainment, April 8, 1795, in honor 

of French successes. — Boston Independent Chronicle, Vol. XXVII. No. 
1469. 



452 WHITE SLAVEET IX THE BARBARY STATES. 

peace, and the restoration of our unfortunate fellow-citi- 
zens from a grievous captivity." 1 This was effected on 
the 5th of September, 1795. It was a treaty full of 
humiliation for the " chivalry " of our country. Besides 
securing a large sum of money to the Algerine govern- 
ment in consideration of present peace and the liberation 
of captives, it stipulated an annual tribute of " twelve 
thousand Algerine sequins in maritime stores." 2 But 
feelings of pride disappeared in heartfelt satisfaction. 
A thrill of joy went through the land, when it was an- 
nounced that a vessel had left Algiers, having on board 
all the American captives, now happily at liberty. Their 
emancipation was purchased at the cost of more than 
seven hundred thousand dollars. The largess of money, 
and even the indignity of tribute, were forgotten in grat- 
ulations on their new-found happiness. The President, 
in his speech to Congress, delivered in person, Decem- 
ber 7, 1796, presented their "actual liberation" as a 
special subject of joy to "every feeling heart." 3 Thus 
did the National Government construct a bridge of gold 
for Freedom. 

This act of national generosity was followed by peace 
with Tripoli, purchased, November 4, 1796, for the sum 
of fifty-six thousand dollars, — "$ 48,000 in cash, 
$8,000 in presents," 4 — under the guaranty of the Dey 
of Algiers, who was declared to he "the mutual friend 
of the parties.'' By an article in this treaty, negotiated 
•c Joel Barlow, — out of tenderness, perhaps to Ma- 
hometanism, and to save our citizens from that slavery 

1 Annals <>f Congress, 4th Cong, l-t Sess. col. 11. 

- United States Statutes al Large, Treaties, Vol. VIII. p. 133. Lyman's 
Diplomacy, Vol. II. p. 862. 
:i Annals of Congress, 4th Cong. 2d Sess. col. 1593. 
4 Lyman's Diplomacy, Vol. II. p. 881, note. 



WHITE BLAVEBY IN THE BAEBABT STATES. 453 

which was regarded as the just doom of "Christian 
dogs," — it was expressly declared thai "the Govern- 
ment of the United States of America is not in any 
sense founded on the Christian religion." l By a treaty 
with Tunis, purchased alter some delay, but at a smaller 
price than that with Tripoli, all danger to our citizens 
seemed to be avt'i-t.'.l. Eere it was ignominiously pro- 
vided, that fugitive slaves, taking refuge on board Amer- 
ican merchanl vessels, and even vessels of war, should 
be restored to their owners. 2 

As early as L787 a more liberal treaty was entered 
into with Morocco, which was confirmed in IT'. 1 "', 3 at 
tlic price of twenty thousand dollars ; while, by a treaty 
with Spain, in L799, this slave-trading empire expressly 
declared its "desire that the name of Slavery might be 
effaced from the memory of man"* 

But these governments were barbarous, faithless, re- 
gardless of humanity and justice. Promises with them 
were evanescent, As in the days of Charles the Sec- 
ond, treaties were made merely to be broken. They 
were observed only so long as money was derived under 
their stipulations. Soon again our growing commerce 
was fatally vexed by the Barbary corsairs; even the 
ships of our navy were subjected to peculiar indigni- 
ties. In 18<»1 the Bey of Tripoli formally declared war 
against the United States, and in token thereof "our 

i Article XI. — Uniti 31 itutes at Large, Vol. VIII. p. ivi. Ly- 

man's Diplomacy, Vol. II. pp. 380,381. 

- Article VL— United States Statutes at Large, VoL VIII. p. 157. Ly- 
man's Diplomacy, Vol. II. p. 4"". — This treaty has two dates,— August, 
1797, and March, 1799. William Eaton and James Leander Cathcart were 
• - of tin- United States at the latter date. 

s United States Statutes at Large, Vol. VIII. p. 100. Lyman's Diplomacy, 
Vol. II. p. 350. 

4 History of the War between the United States and Tripoli, p. BO. 



454 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

flag-staff [before the consulate] was chopped down six 
feel from the ground, and left reclining on the terrace.'' 1 
American citizens once more became the prize of man- 
stcalers. Colonel Humphreys, now at home in retire- 
ment, came out in an address to the public, calling 
again for united action, saying: "Americans of the 
United States, your fellow-citizens are in fetters ! Can 
there be but one feeling? Where are the gallant rem- 
nants of the race who fought for freedom ? Where the 
glorious heirs of their patriotism ? Will there never he 
a truce between political parties ? Or must it forever be 
tin fate of Free States, that the soft voice of union 
should be drowned in the hoarse clamor of discord ? No ! 
Let every friend of blessed humanity and sacred free- 
dom entertain a better hope and confidence." 2 Colonel 
Humphreys was not a statesman only ; he was known 
as poet also. And in this character he. made another 
appeal. In a poem on "The Future Glory of the United 
States," he breaks forth into indignant condemnation of 
slavery, which deserves commemoration, and, whatever 
may be the merits of its verse, should not be omitted 
here. 

" Teach me curst slavery's cruel woes to paint, 
Beneath whose weight our captured freemen faint ! 

Where am I? Heavens! what mean these dolorous cries? 

An. I what these lea-rid scenes that round me rise? 

Heard ye the groans, those messengers <>(' pain? 

Heard ye the clanking of the captive's chain? 

Heard ye your freeborn shun their fate deplore, 

Pale in their chains and laboring at the oar? 

Saw ye the dungeon, in whose blackesl cell, 

That bouse of woe, your friend-, your children, dwell? 

<ir saw ye those who dread the torturing hour, 

Crushed by the rigors of a tyrant's power? 

i Lyman's Diplomacy, Veil. II. p. 384. 

2 Miscellaneous Works of David Humphreys, p. 75. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN 111 i: BABBABY STATES. 455 

■ ■/• the shrinking slave, the uplifted lash, 
The frowning butcher, and the reddening gash 1 
Sawyt tht fresh bl nd, "'In re it bubbling brok\ 
From purple scars, beneath the grinding slroki 1 

.■ tin naked limbs writhed to and fro, 
/n wild contortions of convulsing w 
Felt ye the blood, with pangs alternate rolled, 
Thrill through your vein- and freeze with deathlike cold, 
< >r fire, as down the tear <>f pity stole, 
Four manly breasts, and harrow up the soul? " 1 

The ] pie and Governmenl responded. And here 

commenced those early deeds by which our navy be- 
came known in Europe. Through a reverse of ship- 
wreck rather than war, the frigate Philadelphia fell into 
the hands <it' the Tripolitans. A daring acl of Decatur 
burned it under the guns of the enemy. < >ther feats of 
hardihood ensued. A romantic expedition by General 
Eaton, from Alexandria, in Egypt, across the Desert of 
Libya, captured Derne. Three several times Tripoli was 
attacked, and, at last, on the 4th of June, 1805, entered 
into a treaty by which the freedom of three hundred 
American slaves was secured, on the payment of sixty 
thousand dollars ; and it was provided, that, in the evenl 
of future war between the two countries, prisoners 
should not be reduced to slavery, bu1 should be ex- 
changed rank for rank, and if there were any deficiency 
on either side, it should be made tip at the rate of five 
hundred Spanish dollars for each captain, three hundred 
dollars for each mate and supercargo, and one hundred 
dollars for each seaman. 2 Thus did our country, after 

Successes not without what is called the glory Of anus, 

again purchase with money the emancipation of white 
citizen-. 

1 Miscellaneous Works of David Bumphreys, pp. 52, 68. 
- United States Statute-- at Large, VoL VIII. p. 214. Lyman's Diplo- 
macy, Vol II. i>. 388. 



456 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

The power of Tripoli was inconsiderable. That of Ai- 
mers was more formidable. It is not a little curious 
thai the largest ship of this slave-trading state was the 
( Jrescent, of thirty-four guns, built in New Hampshire ; 1 r 
though it is hardly to the credit of our sister State that the 
Algerine power derived such important support from lier. 
The lawlessness of the corsair broke forth again in the 
seizure of the brig Edwin, of Salem, and the enslave- 
ment of her crew. The energies of the country were 
;it this time enlisted in war with Great Britain; but 
even amidst the anxieties of this important contest was 
heard the voice of these captives, awakening a corre- 
sponding sentiment throughout the land, until the Gov- 
ernment was prompted to their release. Through Mr. 
Xoah, recently appointed consul at Tunis, it offered to 
purchase their freedom at three thousand dollars a 
head. 2 The answer of the Dey, repeated on several 
occasions, was, that "not for two millions of dollars 
would he sell his American slaves." 3 The timely 
treaty of Ghent, establishing peace with Great Britain, 
left us at liberty to deal with this enslaver of our 
countrymen. At once a naval tone was despatched to 
the Mediterranean, under approved officers, Commodores 
Bainbridge and Decatur. The rapidity of their move- 
ments and their striking success had the desired effect. 
In December, 1816, a treaty was extorted from the Dey 
of Algiers, by which, after abandoning all claim to tribute 
in any form, he delivered Ids American captives, ten in 
number, without ransom, and stipulated thai hereafter 
no Americans should be made slaves or forced to hard 

1 History of the War between the United States and Tripoli, p. 88. 

- Noah's Travels, pp. 69, To. 

3 [bid., p. 144. National Intelligencer, March 7, 1815. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BABBARY BTATES. 45*i 

labor, and, still further, thai "any christians whatso- 
ever, captives in Algiers," making their escape, and tak- 
ing refuge on board an American ship of war, should be 
safe from all requisition or reclamation. 3 

Decatur walked his deck with impatient earnestness, 
awaiting the promised signature of the treaty. " Is the 
treaty signed?" he cried to the captain of the porl 
and the Swedish consul, as they reached the Guerriere 
with a white flag of truce. " It is," replied the Swede ; 
and the treaty was placed in the hands of the brave 
commander. "Arethe prisoners in theboal '." "They 
are." " Every one of them ? " " Every one, Sir." The 
captive Americans now tame forward to greel and bless 
their deliverer. 2 Here, on a smaller scale, was the same 
scene which had given such satisfaction to the Emperor 
Charles the Fifth at Tunis. Surely this moment, when 
lie looked upon emancipated fellow-countrymen and 
thought how much lie had contributed to overthrow 
the relentless system of bondage under which they had 
groaned, must have been one of the sweetest in the life 
of our hardy son of the sea. But should I nol say, even 
here, that there is now a citizen of Massachusetts, who, 
without army or navy, by a simple act of self-renuncia- 
tion, has given freedom to a larger number of christian 
American slaves than was liberated by the sword of 
Decatur? Of course I refer to Mr. Palfrey. 

Not by money, hut by arms, was emancipation this 
time secured. The country was grateful forthe result, — 
though the pooT live, linen, engulfed in unknown wastes 
i.!' ocean, on their glad passage borne, were never able 

i fni- Statutes at Large, Vol. VTJI. p. 224. Lyman's Diplomacy, 
Vol. II. p. 376. 

- Mackenzie's Life of Decatnr, p. 268. 

vol. I. 20 



458 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARA STATES. 

to mingle joys with their fellow-citizens. They were 
on board the Epervier, of which no trace ever appeared. 
Nor did the people feel the melancholy mockery of the 
National Government, which, having weakly declared 
that it was " not in any sense founded on the Christian 
religion," now expressly confined the protecting power 
of its flag to fugitive " Christians, captives in Algiers," 
leaving slaves of another faith, escaping even from Al- 
giers, to be snatched as between the horns of the altar 
and returned to continued horrors. 

WHITE SLAVERY ABOLISHED BY AN ENGLISH FLEET. 

The success of American arms was followed by a 
more signal triumph of Great Britain, acting generously 
in behalf of all the Christian powers. Her expedition 
was debated, perhaps prompted, in the Congress of 
Vienna, where, after the overthrow of Napoleon, the 
brilliant, representatives of European nations, with the 
monarchs of Austria, Prussia, and Russia in attendance, 
considered how to adjust the disordered balance of em- 
pire, and tn remedy evils through joint action. Among 
many high concerns was the project of a crusade against 
the Barbary States, to accomplish the complete abolition 
of Christian slavery. For this purpose, it was proposed 
to form "a holy league," which was earnestly enforced 
by a memoir from Sir Sidney Smith, 1 the same who 
foiled Napoleon at Acre, and at this time president of 
an association called the "Knights Liberators of the 

1 Memoire but la XC-.-. — iti- ei lea Moyens de faire cesser les Pirateries des 
Btats Barbaresques. Recu, consider, et adopts a Paris en Septembre, ii 
Turin le M Octobre, 1M4, a Vienne durani le Congres. Par W.Sidney 
Smith. See Quarterly Reyiew, Vol. XV. |>. 139, where this is noticed. 
Schoell, Histoire des Train- de Paix, Tom. XI. p. 402. 



WHITE M.ayi:i;y IN Tin: BABBABT STATES. 459 

White Slaves in Africa," — in our day it would be 
called an Abolition Society, — thus adding to the doubt- 
ful Laurels of war the true glory of strr\ ing for the free- 
dom of his fellow-man. 

Though n.it adopted by the Congress, this projecl 
awakened a generous echo. Various advocates ap- 
peared in its support ; and what the Congress failed to 
undertake was now especially urged upon Great Britain 
by the agents of Spain and Portugal, who insisted, that, 
"because this nation had abolished the trade in blacks, it 
was her dviy to extinguish the slavery of whites? 

A scandalous impediment seemed to interfere, show- 
ing itself in a common belief that the obstructions from 
the Barbary states were advantageous to British com- 
merce by thwarting ami strangling that of other coun- 
tries, and that therefore Great Britain, ever anxious for 
commercial supremacy, would do nothing for their over- 
throw, — the love of trade prevailing over the love of 
man. 2 This imputation of sordid selfishness, willing 
to coin money out of the lives and liberties of fellow- 
Christians, was soon answered. 

At the beginning of the year 1816, Lord Exmouth, 
already distinguished in the British navy as sir Edward 
Pellew, was despatched with a squadron to Algiers. By 
general orders bearing date March 21, 1816, he an- 
nounced the object of his expedition as follows. 

"He has been instructed ami directed by his Royal High- 
ness, the Prince Regent, to proceed with the fleet to Algiers, 

1 Quarterly Review, Vol. XV. p. M5. Edinburgh Review, Vol. XXVI. 
p. 44f". noticing :i Letter to :i Member of Parliament on the Slavery of 
the Christiana at Algiers, by Walter Croker, Esq., of the Royal Navy, 
Lena. .n. 1816. Sdi. .ell. Histoire des Trait.'-- de Paix, Tom. XI. p. 402. 

- Edinburgh Review, Vol. XXVI. p. 461. Osier's Life of Exmouth, 
p. 302. Mackenzie's Life of Decatur, pp. 261-21 . 



460 WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BAEBAEY STATES. 

and there make certain arrangements for diminishing, at least, 
the piratical excursions of the Barbary States, by which thou- 
sands of our fellow-creatures, innocently following their com- 
mercial pursuits, havt been dragged into the most ivretched and 
revolting state of slavery. 

" The commander-in-chief is confident that this outrageous m 
system of piracy and slavery rouses in common the same spirit 
of indignation which he himself feels ; and should the govern- 
ment of Algiers refuse the reasonable demands he bears 
from the Prince Regent, he doubts not but the flag will be 
honorably and zealously supported by every officer and man 
under his command, in his endeavors to procure the accep- 
tation of them by force ; and if force must be resorted to, ive 
have t/ie consolation of knowing that we fight in the sacred 
cause of humanity, and cannot fail of success.'''' 1 

The moderate object of his mission was readily ob- 
tained. "Arrangements for diminishing the piratical 
excursions of the Barbary States" were established. 
Ionian slaves, claimed as British subjects, were re- 
leased, and peace was secured for Naples and Sardinia, — 
the former paying for subjects liberated five hundred 
dollars a head, and the latter three hundred dollars. 
This Mas at Algiers. Lord Exmouth proceeded next to 
Tunis and Tripoli, where, acting beyond his instructions, 
he obtained from both these piratical governments the 
promise to abolish Christian slavery within their re- 
spective dominions. In one of his letters on this 
event he says, that, in pressing these concessions, he 
"acted solely on his own responsibility and without or- 
ders, — the causes and reasoning on which, upon general 
principles, may be defensible, but, as applying to our 
own country, may nol be borne out, the old mercantile 

1 Osier's Life of Exmouth, p. 297. 



WHITE BLAVEBY IN nil BABBABY STATES. 461 

interest being against if." 1 It is curious 1" recall a sim- 
ilar distrust excited in another age by ;i similar achieve- 
ment. Admiral Blake, after his attack upon Tunis, ap- 
pealed to the governmenl of Cromwell, in words appli- 
cable tn the recent occasion, savin- : " And now, seeing 
it hath pleased God soe signally to justify as herein ! 
hope Hi- Bighness will not be offended at it, nor any 
who regard duely the honor of our nation, although 1 
pect <•> heare <;/' many <<>hi plaints and clamors of inU rested 
men." 2 Thus, more than once, in these efforts to abolish 
White Slavery, did Commerce, daughter of Freedom,fall 

under suspicion of disloyalty to her parent. 

Lord Exmouth did injustice to the moral sense of 
England. His conduct was sustained and applauded, 
not only in the House of Commons, but by the coun- 
try at large. He was sent hack to Algiers — which 
had tailed to make any general renunciation of Whil • 
Slavery — to extort tin's stipulation hy force. British 
historians regard this expedition with peculiar pride. 
In all the annals of their triumphant navy there is 
none where the barbarism of war seems so much to 
'•-month its wrinkled front." With a Beet complete 
at all points, the good Admiral set. sail duly 25, L816, 
on what was deemed a holy war. With the line-of- 
battle ships, five frigates, four homli-vessels, and five 
gun-brigs, besides a Dutch licet of five frigates and 
a corvette, under Admiral Van Capellen, — who, on 
learning the object of the expedition, solicited and ob- 
tained Leave to cooperate, he anchored before tic- for- 
midable fortifications of Algiers. It would not he 
agreeable or instructive to dwell on the scene of d 

ife of Exmouth, p. 
2 Thurloe's State Papers, VoL III. p. 300. 



4G2 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBABY STATES. 

lation and blood which ensued. Before night the fleet 
fired, besides shells and rockets, one hundred and eigh- 
teen tons of powder, and fifty thousand shot, weighing 
more than five hundred tons. The citadel and massive 
batteries of Algiers were shattered and crumbled to ruins. 
Storehouses, ships, and gunboats were in flames, while 
the blazing lightnings of battle were answered by the 
lightnings of heaven in a storm of signal fury. The 
power of the Great Slave-dealer was humbled. 

The terms of submission were announced to his fleet 
in an order of the Admiral, dated, Queen Charlotte, Al- 
giers Bay, August 30, 1816, which may be read with tru- 
er pleasure than any other in military or naval history. 

" The commander-in-chief is happy to inform the fleet of 
the final termination of their strenuous exertions, by the 
signature of peace, confirmed under a salute of twenty-one 
guns, on the following conditions, dictated by his Royal 
Highness, the Prince Regent of England. 

"I. Tin-: abolition <>f Christian slavery forever. 

" II. The delivery /<< my jl<i<j of all slaves in tin dominions 
of the Dey, t<> whatever nation tit,;/ may belong, ut noon to- 
mom>ii'. 

"III. To deliver also to my flag all money received by 
him for the redemption of slaves since the commencement 
of this year, at noon also to-morrow." ' 

On the next day upwards of twelve hundred slaves 
were emancipated, making, with those liberated in his 
earlier expedition, more than three thousand, whom, by 
address or force, Lord Exmouth delivered from bond- 
age. 2 

i Osier's Life of Exmouth, p. 333 

- Ibid., pp. 334, 33:.. Annual Register, 1816, Vol. LVIII. pp. u7]-105]. 
Shaler's Sketches of Algiers, pp. 2T'j-294. 



WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBAE"! STATES. 463 

Thus ended White Slavery in the Barbary States. 
Already it had died ou1 in Motfocco. Quietlj it had 
been renounced b] Tripoli and Tunis. Its last retreat 
was Algiers, whence it was driven amidsl the thunder 
of the British cannon. 

Signal honors awaited the Admiral. He was elevated 
to a new rank in the peerage, and <>n his coat-of-anns 
was emblazoned a figure never before known in heraldry, 
— (I Christian slave holding aloft the cross and dropping 
his broken fetters. 1 From the officers of the squadron 
he received a costly service of plate, with an inscription, 
in testimony of " the memorable victory gained at Al- 
giers, where the great cause of Christian freedom was 
bravely fought and nobly accomplished." 2 Bighei far 
than honor were the rich personal satisfactions he de- 
rived from the beneficent cause in which he was en- 
listed. In a despatch to the * rO"\ emment, describing the 
battle, he says, in words which may be felt by oth 
warring for the overthrow of slavery : "In all the vicis- 
situdes of a long life of public service, no circumstance 
has ever produced on my mind such impressions of 
-latitude and joy as the event of yesterday. To have 
been one of the humble instruments in the hands of 
Divine Providena for bringing to reason a ferocious 
government, and destroying forever the insufferabh and 
horrid system of Christian slavery, can never cease to 
be a source of delight and heartfelt comfort to every in- 
dividual happy enough to be employed in it" :i 

The reverses of Algiers did not end here. Christian 
slavery was abolished; but in 18:JU the insolence of 



l l isler'a Life of Exmouth, p. 340. 
a [bid., p. 342. 

3 Ibid., p. 432. Shaler'a Sketches of Algl 



2S2. 



464 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

this barbarian government awoke the vengeance of 
France to take military possession of the whole coun- 
try. Algiers capitulated, the Dey abdicated, and this 
considerable power became a French colony. 

Thus I have endeavored to present what I could 
glean in various fields on the history of White Slavery 
in the Barbary States, — often employing the words of 
others, as they seemed best calculated to convey the 
scene, incident, or sentiment which I wished to pre- 
serve. So doing, I have occupied much time; but I 
may find my apology in the words of an English chron- 
icler. " Algier," he says, " were altogether unworthy so 
long discourse, were not the unworthinesse most worthy 
our consideration: 1 meane the cruell abuse of the 
Christian name, which let us, for inciting our zeale and 
exciting our charitie and thankfulnes, more deeply 
weigh, to releeve those there in miseries (as we may) 
with our paynes, prayers, purses, and all the best me- 
diations." 1 To exhibit the crime of slavery is in itself 
sufficient motive for any exertion. 



III. 

WHITE SLAVERY ILLUSTRATED BY EXAMPLES. 

By natural transition 1 am now brought to inquire 
into the true character of the evil whose history has been 
traced. Eere I shall be brief. 

Slavery in the Barbary States is denounced as an 

unquestionable, outrage upon humanity and justice. In 
this judgment nobody hesitates. Our liveliest sympa- 

1 Purohas's Pilgrims, Vcl. II. p. 1565. 



WHITE SLAVES? IN THE BASBABY STATES. 466 

thies attend these white brethren, — tum from homes, 
the ties of family and friendship rudely severed, parent 
separated from child and husband from wife, exposed 
at public sale like rattle. ami dependent, like cattle, iipoD 
the uncertain will of an arbitrary taskmaster. We read 
of a " gentleman " compelled to be valet of the barba- 
rian emperor of Morocco; 1 and Calderon, the pride of 
the Spanish stage, lias depicted the miserable fate of 
a Portuguese prince, degraded by the infidel Moor to 
carry water in a garden But the lowly in condition 
had their unrecorded sorrows, whose sum-total swells 
to a fearful amount, Who can tell how many hearts 
have been wrung by the panga of separation, how 
many crushed by the comfortless despair of intermi- 
nable bondagel "Speaking as a christian," says the 
good Catholic father who has chronicled much of this 
misery, "if on the earth there can be any condition 
which in its character and evils may represent in 
any manner the dolorous Passion of the Son of God 
(which exceeded all evils and torments, because by it 
the Lord suffered every kind of evil and affliction), it is. 
beyond question and doubt, none other than slavery and 
captivity in Algiers and Barbary, whose infinite evils, 
terrible torments, miseries without number, afflictions 
without mitigation, it is impossible to comprehend in a 
brief span of time." a When we consider the author's 
character as a father of the Catholic church, it will be 
fell that Language can no further go. The details of the 
picture may be seen in the report of another Catholic 

1 Braithwaite'a Revolutions in Mop 

- Baedo, Bistoria, pp. 189, 14<>.— Besides illustrations of the hardships of 
White Slavery already introduced, I refer briefly to the following: Edin- 
burgh Review, Vol. XXVI. pp. 152 -464; Quarterly Review, VoL XV. ]). 145; 
Life of General William Eaton, p. 100; Noah's Travels, pp. 866, I 

20* vu 



466 WHITE SLAVEEY IX THE BAKBAKY STATES. 

father at a later day, who furnishes a chapter on the con- 
dition of Christian slaves in Morocco. Their torments 
are depicted: constrained to work at all hours, without 
days of rest, without proper food ; sometimes the diver- 
sion of their master, " who makes their labor his rest 
and their sufferings his pleasure".; subject at all times 
to his capricious will, and the victims of horrid cruelty. 
One is described who was cast naked to the dogs, but, 
amidst the torments he endured, exhorted his fellow- 
captives to have patience, "telling them that Jesus 
Christ had suffered much more for them and for him" ; 
— saying this, he gathered up his bowels, which he 
drew from the mouths of the dogs, till, his strength fail- 
ing him, he expired, and they devoured him. " I should 
never have done," says the father, " did I go about to 
relate here all that the merchants and captives told us 
of cruelties, they are so excessive." x 

In nothing are impiety and blasphemy more apparent 
than in the auctions of human beings, where men are 
sold to the highest bidder. Through the personal ex- 
perience of a young English merchant, Abraham Brown, 
afterwards a settler in Massachusetts, we leara how 
these were conducted. In 1655, before the liberating 
power of Cromwell was acknowledged, he was captured, 
together with a whole crew, and carried into Sallee. 
His own words, in his memoirs still preserved, will best 
tell his story. 

"On landing," he says, "an exceeding great com- 
pany of most dismal spectators were led to behold us 
in our captivated condition. There was liberty for all 
Sorts to conic and look oil US, that whosoever had a 
mind to buy any of us, on the day appointed lor our 

1 Busuut, History of the Reign of Muley Ismael, Chap. VI. p. 16-1. 



WHITE SLAVES? IN THE BARBAE? STATES. 461 

Bale together in the market, mighl see, as I may say, 
what they would like to have for their money; where- 
by we had too many comfortless visitors, both from the 
town ami country, one saying he would buy this man, 
ami the other thai man. To comfort us, we were told 
by the Christian slaves already there, if we met with 
such and such patrons, our usage would not 1"' so bad 
as we supposed; though, indeed, our men found the us- 
age of the besl bad enough. Fresh victuals and bread 
were supplied, I suppose to feed us up Pot the market, 
thai we mighl be in some good plight against the day 
we were to 1"' sold. 

••And now 1 come to speak of our being sold into 
tins doleful slavery. It was doleful in respect to the 
time and manner. As to the time, it was on our Sab- 
bath day, in the morning, about the time the people of 
God were about to enjoy the liberty of God's house: 
this was the time our bondage was confirmed. Again, 
it was sad in respect to the manner of our selling. 
Being all of us brought into the market-place, we were 
led about, two or three at a time, in the midst of a great 
concourse of people, both from the town and country, 
who had a full sight of us, and it' that did not satisfy, 
they would conic and feel of your hand and look into 
your mouth to sec whether you are sound in health, or 
to see by the hardness of your hand whether you have 
been a laborer or not. The manner of buying is this: 
he that bids the greatest price hath you, — they bidding 
one upon another, until the highest has you for a slave, 
whoever he is. or wherever he dwells. 

•• As concerning myself, being brought to the market in 
the weakest condition of any of our men. I was hd forth 
among the cruel multitude to he sold. A- yet being un- 



468 WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BAEBAEY STATES. 

discovered what I was, I was like to have been sold at a 
very low rate, not above fifteen pounds sterling, whereas 
our ordinary seamen were sold for thirty pounds and 
thirty-five pounds sterling, and two boys were sold for 
forty pounds apiece ; and being in this sad posture led 
up and down at least one hour and an half, during which 
time a Dutchman, that was our carpenter, discovered 
me to some Jew T s, they increased from fifteen to seventy- 
five pounds, which was the price my patron gave for me, 
being three hundred ducats ; and had I not been so 
weakened, and in these rags (indeed, I made myself 
more so than I was, for sometimes, as they led me, I 
pretended I could not go, and did often sit down), — 
I say, had not these things been, in all likelihood I had 
been sold for as much again in the market, and thus I had 
been dearer, and the difficulty greater to be redeemed. 
During the time of my being led up and down the 
market, I was possessed with the greatest fears, not 
knowing who my patron might be. I feared it might 
be one from the country, who would carry me where I 
could not return, or it might be one in and about Sallee, 
of which we had sad accounts, and many other distract- 
ing thoughts 1 had. And though I was like to have 
been sold unto t lie most cruel man in Sallee, there being 
but one piece-of-eigh1 between him and my patron, vet 
the Lord was pleased to cause him to buy me, of whom 
I may speak, to the glory of God, as the kindest man in 
the place." * 

This is the story of a respectable person, little distin- 
guished in the world. But the slave-dealer applied his 
inexorable system without distinction of persons. 

1 Memoirs of Abraham Brown, MS. 



WHITE SLAVEBY IN THE BABBAM STATES. 469 



ST. VINCENT DB PAUL A SLAVE. 

The experience of St. Vincent de Paul did not differ 
from that of Abraham Brown. That illustrious charac- 
ter, admired, beloved, and worshipped by Large circles of 
mankind, has also Lefl a record of his sale as a slave. 

•■ Their proceedings at our Bale," he says. " were as fol- 
lows. After we had been stripped, they gave to each 
one of us a pair of drawers, a linen coat, with a cap, and 
paraded us through the city of Tunis, whither they had 
come expressly to sell us. Having made us take five or 
six turns through the city, with the chain at our necks, 
they conducted us hack to the boat, that the merchants 
might come and see who could eat well and who not, 
and to show that our wounds were not mortal This 
done, they took us to the public square, where the mer- 
chants came to visit us, precisely as is done at the pur- 
chase of a horse or an ox, making us open our mouths 
to see our teeth, feeling our sides, probing our wounds, 
and making us walk about, trot, and run, then lii't 
burdens, and then wrestle, in order to see the strength 
of each, and a thousand other sorts of brutalities." 1 

In this simple narrative what occasion for humilia- 
tion and encouragement ! Well may we be humbled, 
that a nature so divine was subject to this cruel lot! 
Well may we be encouraged, as we contemplate the 
heights of usefulness and renown which this slave at 
last reached ! 

1 Biographie Universelle (Michaud): Art., Vincent de PauL 



470 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BAEBARY STATES. 



CERVANTES A SLAVE. 

Here we may refer again to Cervantes, whose pen 
Mas dipped in his own dark experience. His "Life in 
Algiers" exhibits the horrors of the slave-market as it 
might he exhibited now. The public crier exposes for 
sale a father and mother with two children. They are 
to be sold separately, or, according to the language of 
our day, " in lots to suit purchasers." The father is re- 
signed, confiding in God ; the mother sobs ; while the 
children, ignorant of the inhumanity of men, show an 
instinctive trust in the constant and wakeful protec- 
tion of their parents, — now, alas ! impotent to shield 
them from dire calamity. A merchant, inclining to pur- 
chase one of the children, and wishing to ascertain his 
bodily condition, makes him open his mouth. The 
child, ignorant of the destiny which awaits him, im- 
agines that the purchaser is about to extract a tooth, 
and, assuring him that it does not ache, begs him to de- 
sist. The merchant, in other respects estimable enough, 
pays one hundred and thirty dollars for the youngest 
child, and the sale is completed. Thus a human being 
— one of those "little ones" who inspired the Saviour 
to say, "Of such is the kingdom of heaven" — is pro- 
fanely treated as an article of merchandise, and torn 
from a mother's arms and a father's support. The 
hardening influence of custom has steeled the merchant 
into criminal insensibility to this violation of humanity 
and justice, this laceration of sacred ties, this degrada- 
tion of God's image. The unconscious heartlessness of 
the slave-dealei and the anguish of liis victims are de- 
picted in the dialogue which ensues after the sale. 



WHITE BLA.VEBY IN' Tin: BABBABY STATES. 471 

Merchant. 
Come hither, child, 't i- time to go to rest. 

Jl AN. 

Signor, I will not leave my mother litre, 
To yo with any one. 

Mother. 

Alas .' my child, thou art no longer mine, 
Jiut hit who bouyht thee. 

.J I AN. 

What .' then, have you, mother, 
Forsaken me t 

Mother. 

i i Heavens! how cruel are ye I 

Merchant. 

Come, hasten, boy. 

Juan. 

Will you go with rac, brother? 

Francisco. 
I cannot, Juan; 't is not in my power; 
May Beaven protect you, Juan! 

Mother. 
Oh, my child, 

My joy and my delight, God won't forget thee! 

Juan. 

father! mother! whither will they bear me 
Away from you? 

Mother. 
Permit me. worthy Signor, 
To speak a moment in my infant's ear? 
Grant me this -mall contentment; very soon 

1 .-hall know nought but grief. 

Ml .l:< RANT. 

What you would Bay 

Say now; to-night is the Ia-t ti 

Morn i k. 
To-night 
la the first time my heart e'er felt such grief. 

Juan. 
Pray keep me with you, mother, for J know not 
Whithi r In '</ carry me. 

Moi hi a. 
Alas! poor child, 
Fortune forsook thee even at thy birth. 



472 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

The heavens are overcast, the elements 

Are turbid, and the very sea and winds 

Are all combined against me. Thou, my child, 

Know'st not the dark misfortunes into which 

Thou art so early plunged, but happily 

Lackest the power to comprehend thy fate. 

What I would crave of thee, my life, since I 

Must never more be blessed with seeing thee, 

Is that thou never, never wilt forget 

To say, as thou wert wont, thy Ave Mary ; 

For that bright queen of goodness, grace, and virtue 

Can loosen all thy bonds and give thee freedom. 

Aydar. 
Behold the wicked Christian, how she counsels 
Her innocent child! You wish, then, that your child 
Should, like yourself, continue still in error. 

Juan. 
mother, mother, may I not remain t 
And must these Moors, then, carry me aioay f 

Mother. 
With thee, my child, they rob me of my treasures. 

Juan. 
Oh, I am much afraid ! 

Mother. 
'T is I, my child, 

Who oughr to fear at seeing thee depart. 
Thou wilt forget thy God, me, and thyself. 
What else can I expect from thee, abandoned 
At such a tender age amongst a people 
Full of deceit and all iniquity V 

Crier. 

Silence, you villanous woman ! if you irould not 
Have your head pay for what your tongue has done. 1 

l This translation is borrowed from Sismondi's Literature of the South 
of Europe, by Roscoe, Vol. III. p. 381. There is a letter of John Dunton, 
Mariner, addressed to the English Admiralty in 1637, which might furnish 
the foundation of a similar scene. " For my only son," he says, " is now a 
slave in Algier, and but ten years of age, and like to be lost forever, without 
God's great mercy and the king's clemency, which, I hope, may he in some 
manner obtained." — A True Journal of the Sallee Fleet, with the Proceed- 
ings of the Voyage, published by John Dunton, London Mariner, Master of 
the Admiral, called the Leopard: Osborne's Voyages, Vol. II. p. 492. 



WHITE sl.AVF.KV IN THE BASBABT 478 

Prom such a scene ur gladly turn away, while, La 
the sincerity of our hearts, nsc give our sympathies to 
the unhappy sufferers. Fain would we averl their I 
fain would we destroy the system of bondage thai has 
made them wretched and their masters cruel. And yel 
we must not judge with harshness the Algerine slave- 
owner, who, reared in a religion of slavery, learned t,i 
regard Christians "guilty of a skin noi colored like his 
own" as lawful prey, and found sanctions for his con- 
duct in the injunctions of the Koran, the custom of 
his country, and the instinctive dictates of an imagined 
self-interest. It is, then, the "peculiar institution" 
which we are aroused to execrate, rather than the Al- 
gerine slave-masters glorying in its influence, nor per- 
ceiving their foul disfigurement 



TESTIMONY OF GENERAL EATON. 

There is reason to believe that the sufferings of white 
slaves were not often greater than is the natural inci- 
dent of slavery. An important authority presents this 
poinl in an interesting light. It is thai of General 
Eaton, for some time consul of the United States at 
Tunis, and conqueror of Derne. In a letter to his wife, 
dated at Tunis, April G, 1799, and written amidst op- 
portunities of observation such as few have possessed, 
he briefly describes the condition of this unhappy class, 
illustrating it by a comparison less flattering to our 
country than to Barbary. -.Many of the Christian 
slaves," he says, "have died of grief, and the others 
linger out a life less tolerable than death. Alas! re- 
morse seizes my whole souL when I refleel thai this is, 
indeed, but a copy of the very barbarity which my eyes 



474 Minn: slavery in the barbary states. 

have seen in my own native country. And yet we 
boast of liberty and national justice. How frequently, 
in the Southern States of my own country, have I seen 
weeping mothers leading the guiltless infants to the 
sales with as deep anguish as if they led them to the 
slaughter, and yet felt my bosom tranquil in the view 
of these aggressions upon defenceless humanity ! But 
when I see the same enormities practised upon beings 
whose complexion and blood claim kindred with my 
own, I curse the perpetrators, and weep over the 
wretched victims of their rapacity. Indeed, truth and 
justice demand from me the confession, that the Christian 
slaves among the barbarians of Africa are treated with 
more humanity than the African slaves among tlu, pro- 
fessing Christians of civilized America. And yet here 
sensibility bleeds at every pore for the wretches whom 
fate has doomed to slavery." 1 These words are ex- 
plicit, although more terrible for us than for the Bar- 
bary States. 



INFLUENCE OF THE KORAN. 

Such testimony would seem to furnish a decisive 
standard by which to determine the character of "White 
Slavery. Bui there are other considerations and author- 
ities. One of these is the influence of religion on these 
barbarians. Travellers remark the kind treatment be- 
stowed by Mahometans upon slaves. 2 The lash rarely, 
if ever, Lacerates the back of the female; the knife or 

1 Life of < reneral Baton, p. 154. 

2 Wilson's Travels, p. 93. Noah's Travels, p. 802. Shaler's Sketches of 

rs, p. 77. Edinburgh Review, Vol. XXXVIII. p. 408. Quarterly Re- 
view, Vol. XV. p. 168. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAE? STATES. 475 

branding-iron la nol employed upon any human being 

to mark liim as property of his fellow-man. Not is 
the slave doomed, as in other countries, where the 
Christian religion is professed, to unconditional and per- 
petual service, without prospect of redemption. Hope. 
the Lasl friend of misfortune, may brighten his captivity. 
II.' is n<>t so walled up by inhuman institutions as to 
be inaccessible to freedom. "And unto such of your 
slaves," says the Koran, in words worthy of adoption in 
the legislation of christian countries, "as desire a writ- 
ton instrument allowing them to redeem themselves on 
paying a certain sum, write one, it' ye know good in 
thorn, and give thmn of the riches of < rod which he hath 
given yon." 1 Thus from the Koran, which ordains 
slavery, come lessons of benignity to the slave; and 
one of the most touching stories in Mahometanism is 
of the generosity of Ali, the companion of the Prophet, 
who, after fasting for three day-, gave his whole provis- 
ion to a captive not more famished than himself. 2 

Such precepts and examples had their influence in 
Algiers. It is evident, from the history of the country, 
thai the prejudice of race did not so far prevail as to 
stamp upon slaves and their descendants any indelible 
mart of exclusion from power and influence. It often 
happened that they attained to great posts in the state. 
The seat of the Deys was filled more than once by hum- 
ble captives who had tugged for years at the oar. 3 

i - le'j Koran, Chap. SXIV. Vol. II. p. 194. — The right of redemption 

was t gnized by the Hindoo he. -. I Halhed'a Code, Chap. VIII. § 2.) It 

was unknown in the British West [ndiea while Blavery existed there. 
(Stephen on West India Slavery, Vol I. p. 878.) It is also unknown in 
the B S » of our country. 

2 Sale's Koran, Chap. I. XXVI. VoL II. p. 474, note. 

8 Haedo, Historia de Argel, p. 122. Quarterly Review, Vol. XV. pp. 160, 
172. Shaler's Sketches of Algiers, p. 77. Short Account of Algiers, pp. 22, 



476 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 



APOLOGIES FOR WHITE SLAVERY. 

Nor do we feel, from the narratives of captives and 
of travellers, that the condition of the white slave was 
rigorous beyond the ordinary lot of slavery. "The Cap- 
tive's Story " in Don Quixote fails to impress the reader 
with any peculiar horror of the life from which he es- 
caped. It is often said that the sufferings of Cervantes 
were among the most severe which even Algiers could 
inflict. 1 But they did not repress the gayety of his tem- 
per ; and we learn that in the building where he was 
confined there was a chapel or oratory in which mass 
was celebrated, the sacrament administered, and sermons 
regularly preached by captive priests. Nor was this 
all. The pleasures of the theatre were enjoyed by these 
slaves ; and the farces of Lope de Eueda, a favorite 
Spanish dramatist of the time, served, in actual repre- 
sentation, to cheer this house of bondage. 2 

The experience of the devoted Portuguese ecclesias- 
tic, Father Thomas, illustrates this lot. A slave in Mo- 
rocco, he was able to minister to his fellow-slaves, and 
to compose a work on the Passion of Jesus Christ, much 
admired for its unction, and translated into various 
tongues. Liberated at last through the intervention of 
the Portuguese government, he chose to remain behind, 
notwithstanding the solicitations of relatives at home, 

25. — It seems to have been supposed, that, according to the Koran, the con- 
dition of slavery ceased when the party became a Mussulman. (Penny 
Cyclopaedia: Art. Slavery. Noah's Travels, p. 802. Shaler's Sketches, 
p. 69.) In point of fact, freedom generally followed conversion; but I do 
not find any injunction on the subject in the Koran. 

1 " De los peores <jue en Argel auia." — Haedo, Historia de Argel, p. 85. 
Navarrete, Vida de Cervantes, p. 3G1. 

2 Roscoe, Life of Cervantes, pp. 303, 304. Cervantes, Bafios de Argel. 



WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BABBABT STATES. -177 

thai he might continue to instruct and console the un- 
happy men, his late companions in bonds. 1 

Even the story of - s t. Vincenl de Paul, so brutally 
sold in the public square, is uot without gleam of light. 
II" was bought by a fisherman, who was soon constrained 
to get rid of him, " having nothing so contrary except the 
sea." He then passed into the hands of an old man, 
whom In' pleasantly describes as a chemical doctor, a 
sovereign extractor of quintessences, very humane and 
kind, who had Labored for the -pace of fifty years in 
search of the philosopher's stone. " He Loved me very 
much," says the fugitive slave, "and pleased himself by 
discoursing to me of alchemy, and then of his relig- 
ion, tn which he made every effort to draw me, promis- 
ing me abundant riches and all his learning." On the 
death of this master he passed to a nephew, by whom 
he was sold to still another person, a renegade from Nice, 
who took him to the mountains, where the country was 
extremely hot ami desert. The Turkish wife of the lat- 
ter, becoming interested in him, and curious to know his 
manner of living at borne, came to see him every day at 
his work in the Holds, and listened with delight to the 
slave, away from his country and the churches of his 
religion, as lie sang the psalm of the children of Israel 
in a foreign land: "By the rivers of Babylon there we 
sat down; yea, we wept when we remembered Zion." 2 
Here is a touch of romance, which is all the more in- 
teresting when we consider the great lit'- in which it 
occur-. 

The kindness of these slave-masters often appears. 

1 Biographic Universelle (Midland): Art. Thomas de Jtsus. Digby*8 
Broad Stone of Honor, Tancrahu, § '.'. p. 181. 

2 Biographic Universelle: Art. Vinctnt de Paul. 



478 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAKY STATES. 

The English merchant, Abraham Brown, whose sale at 
Sallee has been already described, confesses, that, after 
he was carried home, his wounds were tenderly washed 
and dressed by his master's wife, and, "indeed, the 
whole family gave him comfortable words." He was 
furnished with a mat to lie on, " and some three or four 
clays after provided with a shirt, such a one as it was, 
a pair of shoes, and an old doublet." His servile toils 
troubled him less than "being commanded by a negro 
man, who had been a long time in his patron's house a 
freeman, at whose beck and command he was obliged 
to be obedient for the doing of the least about the 
house or mill"; and he concludes his lament on this 
degradation as follows : " Thus I, who had commanded 
many men in several parts of the world, must now be 
commanded by a negro, who, with his two country- 
women in the house, scorned to drink out of the water- 
pot T drank of, whereby I was despised of the despised 
people of the world." 1 Here the free negro played the 
part so often played by the white overseer in our own 
country. 

At a later day we are instructed by another authen- 
tic picture. Captain Braithwaite, who accompanied the 
British Legation to Morocco in 1727, on a generous 
mission of liberation, after describing their comfortable 
condition, adds: "I am sure we saw several captives 
who lived much better in Barbary than ever they did 
in their own country Whatever money in char- 
ity was ever sent them by their friends in Europe was 
their own, unless they defrauded one another, which 
ha- happened much oftener than by the Moors. In 
short, the captives have a much greater property than 

1 Memoirs, MS. 



WHITE SIAVKKY IN THE BABBAK! BTATES. 479 

the Munis in what they get, several of them being rich, 
and many have carried considerable sums oul of the 
country, to the truth of which we are all witnesses. 
Several captives keep their mules, and some their ser- 
vants; and yet this La called insupportable slavery 
among Turks and Moors. But we found this, as well 
as many other things in this country, strangely mis- 
represented." 1 Listening to such words, I seem to hear 
the apologies for slavery anion- ourselves. 

Candor compels the admission that these authorities 
— which, with those who do nol place freedom above all 
price, seem to take the sting from slavery — are nol with- 
out supportfrom other sources. Colonel Keatinge, who, 
as member of a diplomatic mission from England, visit- 
ed Morocco in 1785, says of this evil there, thai "it is 
very slightly inflicted," and "as to any labor undergone, 
it does not deserve the name"; 2 while Mr. Lempriere, 
who was in the same country not long afterwards, adds : 
"To the disgrace of Europe, the Moors treat their slaves 
with humanity." 3 In Tripoli, we are told, by a person 
for ten years resident, that the same gentleness pre- 
vailed. "It is a great alleviation to our feelings od their 
account," says the writer, speaking of the slaves," to see 
them easy and well-dressed; and so far from wearing 
chains, as captives do in most other places, they are 
here perfectly al liberty." 4 We have already seen the 
testimony of General Baton with regard to slavery in 
Tunis; while Mr. Noah, one of his successors in the 
consulate of the United States at that plac< 

1 Braithwaite'a Revolutions in Morocco, p. 868. 
* Keatinge'a Travels, p. 260. Quarterly Review, Vol. XV. p. 146. 
also Chenier's I'e tStat • Morocco, VoL I. p. 192, Vol. II. p 

3 Lempriere's Tour, p. 2 Iso pp. 8, 117, 190, 279. 

4 Narrative of a Ten rears' Residence at Tripoli, p. '.Ml. 



480 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

" In Tunis, from my observation, the slaves are not se- 
verely treated; and many of them have made money." 1 
And Mr. Shaler, speaking of the chief seat of Chris- 
tian slavery, says: "In short, there were slaves who 
left Algiers with regret." 2 How singularly present apol- 
ogies for our slavery echo these voices from the Barbary 
States ! 

A French writer of more recent date asserts, with 
some vehemence, and with the authority of an eye-wit- 
ness, that the white slaves at Algiers were not exposed 
to the miseries which they represented. I do not know 
that he vindicates their slavery, but, like Captain 
Braithwaite, he evidently regards many of them as bet- 
ter off than they would be at home, According to him, 
they were well clad and well fed, much better than free 
Christians there, — precisely as it is said that our slaves 
are much better off than free negroes. The youngest and 
most comely were taken as pages by the Dey. Others 
were employed in the barracks; others in the galleys : 
but even here there was a chapel, as in the time of 
Cervantes, for the free exercise of the Christian religion. 
Those who happened to be artisans, as carpenters, lock- 
smiths, and calkers, were let to the owners of vessels ; 
others were employed on the public works ; while oth- 
ers still were allowed the privilege of keeping a shop, 
where their profits were sometimes so large as to enable 
them at the end of a year to purchase their ransom. 
But these were often known to become indifferent to 
freedom, preferring Algiers to their own country. Slaves 
of private persons were sometimes employed in the 
family of their master, where their treatment necessa- 
rily depended much upon his character. If he was 

1 Travels, p. 368. a Sketches of Algiers, p. 77. 



WHITE SLAVES? IN Till" BARBAE* STATES. 481 

gentle ami humane, theii l"t was fortunate ; they were 
regarded as children of tin- house It' he was harsh 
and selfish, then the iron of slavery did indeed enter 
their souls. Many were bought to 1"' sold again for 
profit into distant parts of the country, where they 
were doomed to exhausting labor; in which event their 
condition was most grievous. But special cafe was be- 
stowed upon those who became ill,-- not so much, it is 
said, from humanity as through Tear of Losing them 1 
This whole story seems to he told of us, rather than oi 
others. 

HATEFUL CHARACTER. 

'Whatever deductions may be made from familiar 
stories of "White Slavery, — allowing that it was miti- 
gated by the genial intluence of Mahometanism, — 
that the captives were well clad and well fed, much 
better than free Christians there, — that they were per- 
mitted opportunities of Christian worship, — that tiny 
were often treated with Lenity and affectionate care, — 
that they were sometimes advanced to posts of respon- 
sibility and honor, — and that they were known, in con- 
tentment or stolidity, to become indifferent to freedom, 
— still the institution or custom is hardly less hateful. 
Slavery, in all its forms, even under mildest influences, 
is a wrong and a curse. No accidental gentleness of 
the master can make it otherwise. Against it reason, 
experience, the heart of man, all cry out. "Disguise 
thyself as thou wilt, .-till, Slavery, still thou art a bitter 

1 Histoire d' Alger: Description <lf cc Royaume, 

Terre et ■!<• Mer, Moeura >-t Costumes des Eabitans, ■!«•- M 
des Juifs, des Chretiens, dc ses Lois, etc. (Paris, 1880), Chaj \\\ II. 
VOL. I. 21 ! I 



482 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAEY STATES. 

draught ; and though thousands in all ages have been 
made to drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that ac- 
count." * Algerine Slavery was a violation of the Law 
of Nature and of God. It was a usurpation of rights 
not granted to man. 

" O execrable son, so to aspire 
Above his brethren, to himself assuming 
Authority usurped, from God not given ! 
He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl 
Dominion absolute; that right we hold 
By his donation ; but man over men 
He made not lord, such title to himself 
Reserving, human left from human free." 2 

Such a God-defying relation could not fail to accumu- 
late disaster upon all in any way parties to it ; for in- 
justice and wrong are fatal alike to doer and sufferer. 
Notoriously in Algiers it exerted a most pernicious in- 
fluence on master as well as slave. The slave was 
crushed and degraded, his intelligence abased, even his 
love of freedom extinguished. The master, accustomed 
from childhood to revolting inequalities of condition, 
was exalted into a. mood of unconscious arrogance and 
self-confidence inconsistent with the virtues of a pure 
and upright character. Unlimited power is apt to 
stretch towards license; and the wives and daughters 
of white slaves were often pressed to be the concu- 
bines ill' Algerine masters. 3 

1 Sterne, Sentimental Journey: The Passport : The Motel at Paris. 

* Paradise Lost, Book XII. 64-71. 

8 Noah's Travels, pp. 248, 253. Quarterly Review, Vol. XV. p. 168.— 

Among tl oncubines of a prince of Morocco were two slaves of the age 

of fifteen, one English and the other French. (Lempriere's 'four, p. 147.) 
'11k- fate "f "one Mrs. Shaw, an Irish woman," is given in words hardly 
polite enough to be quoted. She was swept into the harem of Muley 
[smael, who "forced her to turn Moor; .... but soon after, having taken 
a dislike to her, he gave her to a soldier." — Braithwaite's Morocco, p. l'JL 



WHITE SLAVES'? IX THE BARBABY BTATES. 483 

It is well, then, thai it has passed away. The Bar- 
ban state- seem Less barbarous, when we no Longer dis- 
cern this cruel oppression. 

BLACK sl.AVl'.KV REMAINS. 
The story of slavery in the Barbary States is nut ye1 

all told. While they received white slaves from sea, 

captured by corsairs, they also, time immemorial, im- 
ported black slaves oul of the South. Over the vast, 
illimitable sea of sand, absorbing their southern border, 
traversed by camels, those "ships of the desert," were 
broughi these unfortunate beings, as merchandise, with 
gold-dust and ivory, doomed ofteD to insufferable tor- 
ment, while cruel thirst parched the lips, ami tears vain- 
ly moistened the eyes. They also were ravished from 
home, and, like their white brethren from the North, 
compelled to taste of slavery. 

In numbers they far exceeded their white peers. 
But for long years no pen or voice pleaded their cause ; 
nor did the Christian nations, professing a religion 
which teaches universal humanity without respecl "t 
persons, and sends the precious sympathies of neigh- 
borhood to all who suffer, even at the farthest pole, 
ever interfere in their behalf. The navy of Greal Brit- 
ain, by the throat of its artillery, argued the freedom 
of all fellow-Christians, without distinction of nation, 
but heeded not the slavery of others, brethren in hoi id-. 
Mahometans or idolaters, children of the same Father 
in heaven. Lord Exmouth did hut half In- work. 
Confining the stipulation to the abolition of chris- 
tian slavery, this Abolitionisl made a discrimination, 
which, whether founded on religion or color, was self- 



484 WHITE SLAVERY IX THE BARBARY STATES. 

ish and unchristian. Here, again, we notice the same 
inconsistency which appeared in Charles the Fifth, and 
has constantly recurred throughout the history of this 
outrage. Forgetful of the Brotherhood of Man, Chris- 
tian powers deem the slavery of blacks just and prop- 
er, while the slavery of whites is branded unjust and 
sinful. 

As the British fleet proudly sailed from the harbor of 
Algiers, hearing its emancipated white slaves, and the 
express stipulation that Christian slavery was abolished 
there forever, it left behind in bondage large numbers 
of blacks, distributed throughout the Barbary States. 
Neglected thus by exclusive and unchristian Christen- 
dom, it is pleasant to know that their lot is not always 
unhappy. In Morocco negroes are still detained as 
slaves ; but the prejudice of color seems not to prevail. 
They have been called " the grand cavaliers of this 
part of Barbary." 1 They often become the chief mag- 
istrates and rulers of cities. 2 They have constituted 
the body-guard of emperors, and, on one occasion at 
least, exercised the prerogative of Praetorian Cohort, in 
dethroning their master. 3 If negro slavery still exists 
here, it has little of the degradation it entails else- 
where. Into Algiers France has carried the benign 
principle of law, which assures freedom to all beneath 
its influence. And now we are cheered by the glad 
tidings, thai the Bey of Tunis, "for the glory of Cod, 
and to distinguish man from the brute creation," has 
decreed the total abolition of human slavery through- 
out his dominions. 

i Braithwaite'a Morocco, p. 350. See also Quarterly Review, Vol. XV. 
p. 168. 
- Braithwaite, p. 222. 8 Ibid., p. 381. 



WHITE SLAVES? IN THE BARBAE"! STATES. 485 

Turn, then, with hope and confidence to the Barbary 
States! Virtues and charities do uot come singly. There 
is among them a common bond, stronger than thai of 
science or knowledge. Lei one find admission, and a 
goodly troop will follow. Nor is it unreasonable to an- 
ticipate other improvements in states which have re- 
Dounced a long-cherished system of Whin' Slavery, 
while they have done much to abolish or mitigate the 
slavery of others nol white, and to overcome the in- 
human prejudice of color. The Christian nations of 
Europe firsl declared, and practically enforced within 
their own European dominions, the vital truth of free- 
dom, thai man cannot hold property in his brother-man. 
Algiers and Tunis, like Saul of Tarsus, are turned from 
the path of persecution, and now receive the same faith. 
Algiers and Tunis help to plead the cause of Freedom. 
Such a cause is in sacred fellowship with all those 
principles winch promote the Progress of Man. And 
who can tell that this despised portion of the globe is 
not destined to yei another restoration '. li was here 
in Northern Africa thai civilization was firsl uursed, 
that commerce early spread her white wings, thai Chris- 
tianity was taught by the honeyed lips of Augustine. 
All these are returning to their ancient home, civi- 
lization, commerce, and Christianity once more shed 
benignant influence upon the land to which they have 
Long been strangers. New health and vigor anim 
it- exertions. Like its own gianl Antaeus, whose tomb 
i- placed by tradition among the hillside- of Algi 
it has been often felled to earth, hut now rises, with 
renewed strength, to gain yet nobler victories. 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

Speech before the Boston Prison Discipline Society, 
at tue Tremont Temple, June 18, 1847. 



At the anniversary of the Boston Prison Discipline Society, in Park 
Street Church, May 27, 1845, Mr. Sumner was present, in company with 
his friend, Dr. S. G. Howe. Listening to the Annual Report, they were 
painfully impressed by its tone, and especially by the injustice done to 
excellent persons in Philadelphia, sustaining what was known as the 
Pennsylvania System. Without being an advocate of this system, or 
committing himself to it in any way, Mr. Sumner thought that it ought 
to be fairly considered, and that there should be no harsh imputations 
upon its supporters. With the encouragement of Dr. Howe, he came 
forward, and, in a few unpremeditated remarks, sought to point out the 
error of the Report, and concluded with a motion for a select committee 
to review and modify it, with power to \i>it Philadelphia in the name of 
the Society, and ascertain on the spot the true character of the system 
so strongly condemned. The motion prevailed, and the President, who 
was the Rev. Dr. Wayland, appointed Dr S. G. Howe, Mr. Sumner, 
linn. S. A. Eliot, Hon. Horace Mann, Dr. Walter Channing, Rev. Louis 
Dwight, linn. George T. Bigelow, and Hon. J. W. Edmonds of New 
York, as the committee. This was the beginning of a prolonged con- 
troversy, little anticipated when Mr. Sumner first came forward, where 
feeling was displayed beyond what seemed natural to such a question. 

The day after this meeting, Mr. Sumner received a friendly letter 
from the President of the Society, thanking him for the remarks lie had 
made, ami encouraging him to persevere. This letter will be found in 
the speech preserved in this volume. 

The Committee visited Philadelphia, where they were received with 
honor and kindness by the gentlemen interested in Prison Discipline, and 
examined the Penitentiary with every opportunity that could he desired. 
An elaborate Report was prepared by Dr. Howe. How this failed to 
l.e adopted as the Report of the Committee, and to he embodied in the 

Annual Report of the Society, is narrated in the Bpeech below. It was 
afterwards published as a pamphlet, entitled " An Essay on Separate 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISOH DISCIPLINE. 487 

ami Congregate Systems of Prison Discipline, being ;i Report made to 
the Boston Prison Discipline Society," and is, beyond question, a most 
important contribution n> the science of Prison Discipline. The proper 
treatment of criminals is here considered with singular power and sym» 
pathetic humanity. 

Disappointed in the effort to obtain a candid bearing through a Report, 
the subject was presented again at the anniversary of the Society, May 
2ii, ls4t>. Mr. Sumner made a speech of some length, published in 
the newspapers, concluding with a motion for the appointment of a 
committee to examine and reviewthe former printed Report of tl 
ciety, also the course of 1 1 1 » - Society, and to consider if its action could 
in any way be varied or amended, so that its usefulness might !»■ ex- 
tended. Mr. Sumner, George S. Hillard, Esq., Bradford Sumner, Esq., 
Dr. Walter Channing, Rev. Louis Dwight, and President Wayland 
were appointed the committee, it being understood that they would not 
report before the next annual meeting. 

Meanwhile the controversy widened in its Bphere, embracing news- 
papers, and extending to Europe, where it excited uncommon interest. 
The " Law Reporter," an important law journal, edited by Peleg W. 
Chandler, Esq., thus referred to the late meeting, and to Mr. Sumner's 
Bpeech on the occasion. 

"Mr. Sumner proceeded, in a -train of great eloquence and power, to con- 
demn the course which the Society had pur-ued in jiast year-, illustrating 
his points by tacts which arc by no means creditable to the Society, averring, 
among other things, that the statements contained in the Annual Reports 
had been pronounced false by public reports in this country and in Europe, 
and that a letter from the Hon. William .lav, an honorary Vice-President of 
Society, and also a letter from Dr. Bell, a corresponding member, in 
favor of the Separate System, had both never been read to the Society, nor 
published." ' 

At the same time the Law Reporter translated ami published a Ger- 
man article by Dr. Varrentrapp, of Frankfort-on-the-Main, which ap- 
peared originally in the Jahrbiicher der Gefangnisskunde und Besserungs- 
anstalten (Annals of Prisons and Houses of Correction), where thi 

ports of Our Society were canvas»ed with great Severity. 3 

Mr. Sumner's speech was reprinted at Liverpool in a pamphlet. 
Letters from England, France, and Germany attested the concern in 
those countries. Among the eminent persons who watched the discus- 
sion was M. dc Tocqueville, whose' letter on the Bubject will he found 
at the cud of the speech below. At home it called forth an able pam- 
phlet by Hon. Francis C. (J ray, entitled " Prison Discipline in Am. i 
which took ground against the Pennsylvania System. 

i Law Reporter, duly. lS4ti, Vol. IX. p. 98. * [bid., p. 99. 



488 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

At the succeeding anniversary, May 25, 1847, Mr. Sumner, for him- 
self and two of his associates on the Committee, (Dr. Wayland and Mr. 
Uillard,) presented a Report, which was printed in the newspapers. Its 
character will be inferred from the Resolutions with which it concluded. 

" Resolved, That the object of our Society is to promote the improvement ■ 
of public prisons. 

" Resolved, That our Society is not, and ought not to he considered, the 
pledged advocate of the Auburn System of Prison Discipline, or of any 
other system now in existence, — and that its Reports should set forth, with 
strict impartiality, the merits and demerits of any and all systems. 

" Resolved, That we recognize the Directors of the Eastern Penitentiary of 
Pennsylvania as sincere, conscientious, and philanthropic fellow-laborers in 
the great cause of Prison Discipline. 

" Resolved, That, if any expressions of disrespect have appeared in our 
Reports, or been uttered at any of our public meetings, which have justly 
given pain to our brethren, our Society sincerely regrets them. 

" Resolved, That our Society should strive, by increased action on the part 
of its officers and of its individual members, to extend its usefulness. 

" Resolved, That the Board of Managers be requested to organize a new 
system of action for the Society, which shall enlist the cooperation of its 
individual members." 

The adoption of these Resolutions being opposed, the meeting was 
adjourned for their consideration till the evening of May 28th, when 
Mr. Sumner supported them in a speech of some length, which will be 
found in the newspapers. Other meetings followed, by adjournment, 
on the evenings of June 2d. 4th, 9th, 11th, 16th, 18th, and 23d. These 
were all at the Tremont Temple, and were attended by large and most 
intelligent audiences, evincing at times a good deal of feeling. They 
wen- presided over by Hon. Theodore Lyman, a Vice-President of the 
Society. The Resolutions were supported by Dr. Howe, Mr. Hillard, 
Rev. Francis Parkman, and Henry II. Fuller, Esq. They were op- 
posed by Hon. S. A. Eliot (the Treasurer of the Society), Rev. Louis 
Dwighl (the Secretary), Hon. Francis C. Gray, Bradford Sumner, 
Esq., Rev. George Allen, Dr. Walter Channing, and J. Thomas Ste- 
venson, Esq. On the evening of June 18th, Mr. Sumner took the floor 
and reviewed the whole debate. Other speeches by him arc omitted. 
This is given at length, as opening the main points of controversy, and 
especially the principles involved. 

MR. PRESIDENT, — As Chairman of the Commit- 
tee whose Report and Resolutions are now under 

consideration, it heroines my duty to review and to 
close this debate. The reapers have been many, and 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OT PBISON DISCIPLINE. 489 

the sickles keen ; but the field is ample, and the harvest 
abundant ; so tliat, even at this late period, I may hope 
to be no superfluous gleaner. 

Bi fore entering upon our labor, lei us refresh our- 
selves by the contemplation of the unquestioned good 
accruing from these protracted meetings. All will fee] 
how well it is for our Society thai its attention is at 
last turned in upon itself, and that it is led to that 

self-examination enjoined upon everj g 1 man, with 

a view to future usefulness. All, too, will feel, what- 
ever may be the immediate vote on the question before 
us, that this discussion has excited an unwonted interesl 
in behalf of those who arc in prison, and that under its 
intluences a sacred sympathy has vibrated from heart 
to heart. Thus much for the unquestioned g 1. 

Mr. President, I approach this discussion with regret, 
feeling that I must say some things which I would 
uladly leave unsaid. I shall not, however, decline the 
duty which is cast upon me. In its performance I hope 
to be pardoned, if I speak frankly and freely ; I trust it 
will be gently and kindly. I will borrow from the 
honorable Treasurer, with his permission, something of 
his frankness, without his temper. As 1 propose to 
adduce facts, I shall be grateful to any gentleman who 
will correct me where I seem to be wrong. For such 
a purpose I will cheerfully yield the floor, even to the 
Treasurer, though his sense of justice did not sutler 
him, while on the floor, to give me an opportunity of 
correcting a misstatement he made of what I said on a 
former occasion. 

Let me be-in by a reference — which 1 would rather 
avoid — to myself and my personal relations to this 
inquiry. I was brought up at the feet of our Soi 

21 * 



490 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

My earliest recollection of anything like the cause to 
which it is devoted does not extend beyond the period 
of its origin. My early partialities were in favor of its 
course, and of the system of Prison Discipline it has ad- 
vocated. I had read its Beports, and circulated them at 
home and abroad, and felt grateful to their author. 
Other studies, and some acquaintance with the elaborate 
labors by which the science of Prison Discipline has 
been advanced in Europe, led me first to doubt the ac- 
tion of our Society, and finally to the conviction that 
it was not candid and just, particularly in the treatment 
of the Pennsylvania System. With this impression, I 
attended the anniversary of 1845, where I listened to 
what seemed a discreditable Report from the Board of 
Managers, in which this system was treated ignorantly, 
ungenerously, and unjustly, while the officer of our So- 
ciety whose duty it was to read the Report, in words 
which fell from him while reading it, seemed to im- 
peach the veracity of the Inspectors of the Penitentiary 
at Philadelphia. In coneurrence with a friend on my 
right [Dr. Howe], I was emboldened to ask a reference 
of tlic Report to a select committee, with power to review 
and modify it, and to visit Philadelphia, in order to 
ascertain on the spot the true character of the system 
of Prison Discipline there practised, inn/ to incorporate 
n report of their 'proceedings in tin- next Annual Report of 
the Society. What I said was of the moment. I spoke 
in behalf of the absent, and, in a certain sense, as the 
representative of the unrepresented, believing that gross 
injustice was done to them and to their system. My 
aim was to recall the Society to that candor and justice 
which sell-respect, to say nothing of its Christian pro- 
fessions, seemed to l'eiplire. 



RIVAL BYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 491 

Here lei me indulge in a reminiscence. It La the 
custom to open our meetings with prayer. By the 
records of our Society it appears thai at its earliest 
anniversary, as long ago as L826, this service wt is per- 
formed by an eminent clergyman, the deserved favorite 
of bis own denomination, and much respected by all 
others. This public profession of interest in the cause 
was followed by other manifestations of it. He became 
a manager of our Society. Subsequently, yielding to the 
call of the University al Providence, he Lefl Boston and 
became President of that important seat of Learning. 
II 3 labors were uot restricted to academic duties. By 
his pen, and the wide influence of bis remarkable chaiv 
acter, he Was felt in various fields of labor throughout 
the country. His interest in Prison Discipline was 
constant, and in L843 he was chosen President of our 
Society. Placing him at its head, we justly honored one 
of our earliest and most distinguished friends. He was 
in the chair on the anniversary to which I have referred. 
lli^ sense of the injustice to the gentlemen of Philadel- 
phia was great. As the most authentic expression of 
his opinions on that occasion, influencing, as they have, 
the subsequent proceedings of those who seek a change 
in the course of our Society, I read a letter from him, 
written on the evening of that anniversary. 

'• Pboyidehcb, May 27, 1846. 
"My dead Sumner, — I cannot resist the impulse to thank 
you again for your remarks this morning. I had resolved, 
before you rose, t<> return home and immediately resign 
office in the Society ; for 1 could not allow my influence, 
though ever bo small, to be used for the purpose of (as it 
seemed to me) vilifying the intentions of good and honorable 
men. I cannot perceive how we can, with any show of pro- 



492 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

priety, use language, in respect to absent gentlemen, which, 
in the ordinary intercourse of society, would be just cause 
of irreconcilable variance. I agree with you entirely as to 
the object of the Society. It is to improve the discipline of 
prisons, and it should hail, as fellow-laborers, all who are 
honestly engaged in the same cause. The cause requires 
the trial of various experiments, and our business is to col- 
lect, in good faith, and with catholic liberality, the results 
of all, that so, by the comparison of results, the best end 
may be attained. I thank you over and over again for 
coming forward so nobly in defence of the absent, and for 
placing the object of the Society on its true basis, instead of 
allowing it to be a mere antagonist to the gentlemen at 
Philadelphia. In all this, of course, I mean no unkindness 
to any one. I only feel that by looking at an object stead- 
ily and earnestly in only one light we are all liable to lose 
sight of its wider relations. 

" I am, so far as I see, in favor of the Auburn System ; 
but I want to know something of all of the systems, and 
am, I trust, anxious to learn the facts. I wrote an article in 
the North American Review, some time since, on the subject. 
I am inclined to the same view still. But this is no reason 
why I should disparage the labor of others. 

"You seem interested in this matter, and I feel rejoiced 
at it. 1 cannot but hope that good will come of it. Let me 
suggest a few things, by way of indication, that may possi- 
bly he improved. 

"1. Is it wise to have our Annual Reports so far cxt, „,/<,,,; / 
What^we sanction should 1 k- ipsissima verba. Our character 
as men is involved in what we hear and order to be pub- 
lished. 

" 2. It seems to me that our expenditm-e should be used 
with great attention to results. The statistics which we 
have are important, but I doubt whether they always bear so 
closely on our object as they might. Why would it not be 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OB PEISON DIS< UPLINE, 493 

desirable to investigate the greal subjed of Pauperism, and 
thai of Criminal Law, which, together, do almosl the whole 
work of Oiling our prisons I 

•■.">. Do the Executive Committee really take these subjects 
in hand, ami give direction to the labors of the Society] 
Tiny have a very responsible situation, and cannot discharge 
it by -imply auditing bills. Can they not be induced to la- 
bor earnestly in this matter I 

•• 1. It srrms that John Augustus, a poor man, has done 
much. We praise him. This is well. Can we not take 

means for following his example? 

"These things have occurred to me, and I know that you 
will pardon me for suggesting them. 1 believe that there is 

here a field for doing greal good. When I think of the g 1 

which Miss Dix, alone and unaided, has done, 1 cannot but 
believe that we might do more. To the gentlemen of your 
profession we specially look for aid in this matter. Can 
you labor in any philanthropic object with better prospect 
of success 1 Excuse my freedom. 1 have no righi t 
you or any one else at work. 1 am ashamed to he president 
of a society for which I do so little, and will gladly remove 
myself out of the way, and have earnestly desired to do so. 
1. however, hold myself ready to do anything that may he 
in my power to advance the cause in which we are engaged. 
" 1 am, my dear Sir, yours very truly, 

"C.SUMNER, Esq." "F.WAYLAND. 

The committee appointed under the Resolution exam- 
ined the Report of the Managers, and visited Philadel- 
phia. A Reporl prepared by their chairman, Dr. Howe, 
was made, a Minority Reporl by the votes of the Treas- 
urer and Secretary, officers of the Society, and both of 
them, a- appears from the records, involved in the au- 
thorship of the original Report which gave occasion to 
the inquiry, ami therefore, it would seem, in the light 



404 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PEISON DISCIPLINE. 

of propriety, if not of parliamentary rules, hardly com- 
petent to sit on the committee. It was next proposed 
that the Report, although by a minority, should, in pur- 
suance of the instruction in the original Eesolution, " be 
incorporated in the next Annual Report." This, it ap- 
pears from the records, was submitted to the Board of 
Managers, May 7, 1846, where it was opposed by the 
Treasurer. On May 21st it was referred to a meeting 
of the whole Society, convened at the dwelling-house of 
the Secretary : for our association dilates at times to 
dimensions ample as this large audience, and then again 
shrinks, if need be, to the narrow space occupied by its 
Secretary. At this meeting, on motion of the Treas- 
urer, still another impediment was thrown in the way 
of printing the Report, in pursuance of the original Reso- 
lution. At the business meeting of the Society, May 
25th, on the day preceding the anniversary, I made still 
another ineffectual attempt to have this Report appear 
among the transactions of the Society. This was fol- 
lowed by a Resolution, on motion of Mr. Xatlianiel Wil- 
lis, a near connection of the Secretary, as follows : — 

" Voted, That it is not expedient to discuss the subject at 
the anniversary meeting," 

It was at the anniversary meeting, however, that T was 
determined to discuss the subject, being assured, that, in 
the presence of a wakeful public, the will of one or two 
individuals could not control the course of the Society. 
Accordingly I took the floor and proceeded to speak, 
when I was strangely encountered by the Secretary, 
who ejaculated: " .Mr. President, the annual meeting was 
interrupted in this manner last year; there are gentle- 
men present who are invited by the Committee of Ar- 
rangements to address us." On this remarkable frag- 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PKISON DISCIPLINE. 495 

incut of a speech I made no comment at the time. I 

shull make none now ; bul I cannot forbear quoting the 
words of the able editor of the I-aw Reporter with re- 
gard to it " It would serin," lie Bays, "that the ad- 
dresses at the public meetings of this Society arc all cut 
and dried beforehand, made to order, — a lad thai might 
as well have been kept hack, under the circumstam 
for the credit of all concerned."' J Notwithstanding this 
interference, I proceeded to expose the prejudiced and 
partisan course of the Society, and its consequent loss 
of credit, concluding with a motion tor a committee to 
consider its past conduct, and the besl means of extend- 
ing its usefulness. The motion, though opposed at tin: 
time, was adopted. It is the Report of that committee 
which is now before yon. 

This Eeport, when offered to the Society, was first op- 
posed on grounds of form. It is now opposed on other 
grounds, hardly more pertinent, though not of form only. 
Thus at every step have honest efforts to elevate the 
character of the Society, and to extend its usefulness, 
been encountered by opposition. Under the auspices of 
the Treasurer and Secretary, the Society shrinks from 
examination and inquiry. Like the sensitive leaf, it 
closes at the touch. Nay, more : it repels all endeavoi 
to wake it to new life. It seems to have adopted, as 
its guardian motto, that remarkable epitaph which for 
more than two centuries has preserved from examina- 
tion and intrusion the sacred remains of the greatest 
master of our tongue : — 

" Goo.l friend, for .Teens' sake, forbear 
To (Yvz the dust enclosed 1.' 
Blest be the man that spares these b tones, 
And curst be he that moves my boi 

l Law Reporter, July, 1846, Vol. IX. p. 98. 



496 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

The Boston Prison Discipline Society is not "William 
Shakespeare ; nor is it yet dead. But the maledictions 
of the epitaph have fallen upon those of us undertaking 
to " move its bones." 

The Treasurer has impeached our motives. Sir, I 
impeach no man's motives; but I do submit, that, if 
the motives of any person are drawn in question, it can- 
not be those of gentlemen originating this inquiry, but 
rut Tier of those few whose pride of opinion is inter- 
twined with the whole course of the Society. Again, 
it is said that we are " intruders." That was the word. 
Is your predecessor, Sir, the Eev. Dr. Wayland, who is 
one of the authors of the report, an intruder ? Are the 
gentlemen sustaining the Report in this debate intrud- 
ers ? Are we not all members of this Society, and as 
such bound to exertion, according to our abilities, in 
carrying forward its objects ? Wlio shall call us in- 
truders ? Sir, I apply this term to no man, and to no 
set of men ; but I cannot forbear saying, that, if its in- 
jurious suggestion be applicable to anybody, it cannot 
be to those honestly striving to elevate the character 
of the Society, and to extend its usefulness, but rather 
to those wlio meet these efforts with constant opposi- 
tion, and declare, as has been done in this debate, that 
"it is the policy of the Society to act by one man only." 
It is also insinuated that one of the gentlemen support- 
ing the Report, a valued friend of mine, has shown undue 
confidence in his own opinions: I do not remember the 
word employed. Sir, his modest character and services, 
which have been gratefully recognized in both hemi- 
spheres, and his intimate acquaintance with the subject, 
<iii it lo him to speak witli firmness. I do not charge 
the gentleman who dealt this insinuation with vanity 



l;iv\l. SYSTEMS OB PRISOfl DISCIPLINE. 497 

or self-esteem, though it did Beem to me thai it came 
with ill grace from one who in the course of a short 
Bpeech contrived to announce himself as Treasurer of 
the Boston Prison Discipline Society, next as Treasurer 
of Harvard College, and, nol content with this, told us 
that he had once Itch a member <>[' the City Govern- 
ment, and a Senator of the Commonwealth ! I will not 
follow these personalities further. I allude to them with 
regret. They are a part of the poisoned ingredients — 
"eye of newt and toe of frog" — which the Treasurer 
has dropped into the caldron of this debate. 

I now pass to the question. The Report and the ac- 
companying Resolutions present three principal points: 
first, the duty and pledge on our part of candor and im- 
partiality between the different systems of Prison Disci- 
pline; secondly, the duty of offering some expression of 
regret to our brethren in Philadelphia on account of the 
past; thirdly, the duty of our officers to make increased 
exertions, particularly by enlisting the cooperation "I 
individual members. 

To these several propositions we have had various 
replies, occupying no inconsiderable time. We have lis- 
tened to the humane sentiments of my friend on the left 
[Dr. Walteb Chaining], to the inappropriate twice- 
told statistics of my other friend [Mr. F. C. Gray], to 
the labored argument of my professional brother [ Mr. 
Bradford Sumner], to the two addresses of the rever- 
end gentleman from Worcester [Rev. George Ajllen]. 
Let me say, that I have many sympathies with this 
gentleman. With admiration and delight I have re- 
cently read a production of his, entitled " Resistam 
Slavery Every Man's Duty.'' Here bia own powers an- 



498 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PKISON DISCIPLINE. 

swered to the grandeur of his cause. If lie has failed 
in the present debate, it cannot be from lack of ability 
or from shortness of time. Lastly, we have been made 
partakers of that singular utterance from our Treasurer, 
which abounded so largely in the excellence that Byron 
found in Mitford, the historian of Greece, and which he 
said should characterize all good historians, — "wrath 
and partiality." 

Tt is my purpose to consider and sustain the positions 
of the Report and Resolutions, and, in the course of my 
remarks, to repel the objections raised against them. 
In doing this, I shall confine myself to the topics which 
occupied the attention of the Committee. This will lead 
me to put aside one suggestion, of an irrelevant char- 
acter, introduced into this debate by a friend not of the 
Committee : I refer to the charge of Sectarianism. This 
did not enter into the deliberations of the Committee, 
and formed no part of the Report. If there lie in the 
past course of the Society any ground for this charge, — 
and on this I express no opinion, — it will doubtless 
find a corrective in what has been said here. As I do 
not ask your acceptance of the Report and Resolutions 
on this ground, so I appeal to your candor in their 
behalf irrespectively of any considerations arising from 
the introduction of this topic. 



Tin: firsl point for consideration is the duty and 
pledge "ii our part of candor and impartiality between 
the differenl systems of Prison Discipline. Here I 
might, perhaps, content myself with a bare enumeration 
of these systems, and ask the Society if they are so 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 409 

fully convinced with regard to the comparative merits 
of arli as tn embrace one, and to reject, absolutely, 
all the others. For instance, I mention four different 
ims. First, that of Pennsylvania, so much discussed, 
tlir principal feature of which is separation of prisoners 
from each other both by day ami oight, with Labor in 
cells. Secondly, that of Auburn, where the prisoners an' 
in separate cells by night, hut labor in common work- 
shops, in enforced silence, by day. Thirdly, a system 
compounded of these two, according to which certain 
prisoners are treated as at Auburn, ami certain others 
as in Pennsylvania, — sometimes called the Mixed Sys- 
tem, and sometimes that of Lausanne, from the circum- 
stance that here, in Switzerland, — interesting 1" us as 
the place where Gibbon wrote his great history, — there 
is a prison of this character. Fourthly, there is still 
another system, — or, perhaps, absence of system, — 
which is folio wed at Munich, and is called after Ober- 
maier, the benevolent head of the prison in that place. 
who has rejected the separate cell of Pennsylvania by 
day, and also the corporal punishment and enforced 
silence of Auburn. Our own prison at Charlestown, 
also marked by absence of system, seems to me not 
unlike that of Obermaier. A similar benevolence ema- 
nates from the head of each of these institutions. 

In each and all of these systems there is, doubtless, 
much that we should hesitate to condemn, and which it 
becomes as, as honest inquirers, to examine carefully 
and seek to comprehend. Calling upon our Society for 
a pledge of candor and impartiality, it will not be dis- 
guised that there are special reasons from it- pasl course. 
Properly to appreciate this course, and to understand 
the unfortunate position of ungenerous antagonism to 



500 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

the Pennsylvania System which we now occupy, it Mall 
be necessary to consider the origin and true character 
of that system. This will lead to some minuteness of 
historical detail. 

Turning our eyes to the condition of prisons during the 
last century, we perceive that scarcely a single ray of hu- 
manity had then penetrated their dreary confines. Idle- 
ness, debauchery, blasphemy, brutality, squalor, disease, 
wretchedness, mingled in them as in a hateful sty. 
All the unfortunate children of crime, the hardened 
felon, whose soul was blotted by continual guilt, and the 
youthful victim, who had just yielded to temptation, 
but whose countenance still mantled with the blush of 
virtue, and whose soul had not lost all its original 
brightness, were crowded together, without separation 
or classification, in one promiscuous, fermenting mass 
of wickedness, with scanty food and raiment, with few 
or no means of cleanliness, a miserable prey to the 
contagion of disease, and the worse contagion of vice 
and sin. The abject social degradation of the ancient 
Britons, in the picture drawn by Julius C?esar, excites 
our wonder to a less degree than the well-authenticated 
condition of the poor prisoners in the polished annals of 
George the Third. 

Of all the circumstances which conspired to produce 
this wretchedness, it cannot be doubted that the pro- 
miscuous commingling of the prisoners in one animal 
herd was the most to be deplored. This evil arrested 
general attention. In France it enkindled the burning 
eloquence of Mirabeau, as in England it inspired the 
heavenly charity of Eoward. It was felt not only in 
Europe, but here in our own country. Nay, it still 



RIVAL SYSTEMS or PRISON DISCIPLINE. 501 

continues, the scandal of this age and place, in the pres- 
ent jail of Boston ! 

In the effort to escape from this evil, persons with 
best intentions, trai by a not unnatural error, rushed to 

the opposite extreme. It was proposed to separate pris- 
oners from each other by a Bystem of absolute solitude, 
without labor, books, or solace of any kind. This was 
actually done in Maine, New Sort, New Jersey, Vir- 
ginia, and Pennsylvania. Without referring particularly 
to other States, 1 ask you to follow the course of tilings 
in Pennsylvania. In 1818 a law was passed author- 
izing the building of a penitentiary at Pittsbuig "on 
the principle of solitary confinement of the convicts," 
and "provided always that the principle of the solitary 
confinement of the prisoners be preserved and main- 
tained." In 1821 another law was passed authorizing 
the same at Philadelphia. Both of these prisons were 
conceived in a system of solitucU without labor. 

As such, they were justly obnoxious to criticism and 
censure. Thanks to the good men who interfered to 
arrest this design ! Thanks to our Secretary, wdiose 
early energies were rightly directed to this end ! The 
soul shrinks with horror from the cell of constant and 
unoccupied solitude, as repugnant to unceasing yearn- 
ings in the nature of man. The "leads" of Venice, the 
cruel cages of state prisoners, inspire us with indig- 
nation against that heartless republic. The terrors of 
the Bastile, whether revealed in the pictured page of 
Victor Hugo, or in the grave descriptions of dungeons 
where toads and rats made their home, contain nothing 
to fill us with such dread as the unbroken solitude 
which was the lot of many of its victims. Lafayette 
— whose own experience at Olnnitz should not be for- 



502 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE, 

gotten — has furnished his testimony of its melancholy 
influence, as apparent in the condition of those who sud- 
denly came forth, on the morning which dawned upon 
the destruction of that gloomy prison. Almost in our 
own time their sufferings have heen revived in the 
Austrian dungeons of Spielberg ; and Silvio Pellico has 
left to the literature of mankind the record of horrors 
filling the perpetual solitude of his cell, which he vainly 
strove to relieve by crying out to the iron bars of his 
window, to the hills in the distance, and to the birds 
which sported with freedom in the air. 

A system of absolute solitude excludes every rational 
idea of health, improvement, or reformation. It is an 
engine of cruelty and tyranny kindred to the iron 
boot, the thumb-screw, the iron glove, and other terrible 
instri 1 1 1 lents of a vengeance-loving government. It hard- 
ens, abases, or overthrows the intellect and character. 
Such a punishment is justly rejected in a Christian age, 
learning to temper justice with mercy, and to regard the 
reformation of the offender among its essential aims. 

Under the pressure of these arguments, in those 
States where this system had been adopted the subject 
was reconsidered. The discussion was affected materi- 
ally by the opinions of two remarkable men, — William 
Koscoe, and Lafayette. The former is cherished as the 
elegant historian of Lorenzo de' Medici and Leo X. ; 
though, perhaps, he sin add be more justly dear for those 
Labors which crowned the close of his life, in the fields 
of humanity. Lafayette — on his visit, in L825, to the 
country which had been the scene of his youthful devo- 
tion — was induced, hy a letter from Koscoe, to interest 
himself in Prison Discipline. He did not surrender 
himself merely to the blandishments of that unparal- 



RIVAL BYSTEMS OP PRISON DISCIPLINE 503 

leled t i-iiiiii|>li. — -a more than royal progress, forming 
one of the most touching incidents in history, — when 
in advanced years he received the gratitude of the giant 
republic whose feeble infancy he had helped to cra- 
dle and protect From his correspondence it appears 
that he strove, by conversation in Maine, New Eamp- 
shire, New York, and particularly in Pennsylvania, to 
influence public opinion on the subject of Prisons, and 
most especially against the system of solitary confine- 
ment, which he justly likened to the Bastile. His own 
opinions, and those of Roscoe, were widely circulated, 
and were quoted in ollieial documents. Their precise 
influence it is impossible to calculate. The system so 
abhorrent to our feelings, alter brief experiment, was 
discarded in those states where it had been in opera- 
tion; and in New York, that of Auburn, consisting of 
solitude by night with labor in common by day, was 
confirmed, to the great joy of Roscoe, who feared that it 
might yield to that of absolute solitude, which had been 
tried there in 1822. 

In Pennsylvania this important change took place 
previously to the occupation of the new penitentiary at 
Philadelphia. By a law bearing date April 23, L829, it 
was expressly provided, that, after July 1, L829, con- 
victs should, "instead of the penitentiary punishments 
heretofore prescribed, be sentenced to suffer punishment 
by separate or solitary confinement at LABOR." It is 
further provided, that the warden "shall visit every cell 
and apartment, and see every prisoner under his .are, at 
least once in every day," — that the overseers shall " in- 
spect the condition of each prisoner at least three times 
in every day," — that "the physician shall visit every 
prisoner in the prison twice in every week " ; and further 



504 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

provision is made for " visitors," among whom are " the 
acting committee of the Philadelphia Society for the 
Alleviation of the Miseries of Public Prisons." Here 
is the first legislative declaration of what has since 
been called, at home and abroad, the Pennsylvania Sys- 
tem. As administered there and elsewhere, it is found 
to have, in greater or less degree, the following ele- 
ments : 1. Separation of the prisoners from each othei ; 
2. Labor in the cell ; 3. Exercise in the open air ; 4. Vis- 
its ; 5. Books ; 6. Moral and religious instruction. Its 
fundamental doctrine, and only essential element, is sep- 
aration of prisoners from each other, on which may be 
ingrafted solace of any kind needful to health of body 
or mind. In 1840, M. de Tocqueville, in his masterly 
report to the French Chamber of Deputies, recommend- 
ing the adoption of this system throughout Prance, ac- 
corded to it these characteristics 

In the history of this system, its origin is often 
referred to different places. It is sometimes said to 
have been first recognized at Home by Clement XL, as 
long ago as 1703, in the foundation of a House of Ref- 
uge; and again it is said to have appeared sometime 
during the last century in a prison of Holland, — also in 
one at Gloucester, in England ; while it seems to be 
described with tolerable clearness in the preamble to 
the fifth section of an Act of Parliament drawn by 
Howard, in conjunction with Sir William Blackstone, as 
early as 1779. Whatever may be the claims of these 
different places, it is now admitted that this system was 
first reduced to permanent practice, on an extended scale, 
in Pennsylvania. Indeed, tins State is hardly more 
known in Europe for shameful neglect to pay the inter- 
est of her public debt than for her admired system of 
Prison Discipline. 



KIVAl. BYSTEMS OF PRISON DIS< il'I.INi:. 505 

Now, waiving for the present, as entirely irrelevant, 

the question whether this system can he practically ad- 
ministered so as to be consistent with health, all must 
admit that it is no! the constant, unoccupied, cheerless 
solitude of the Bastile. [ts main objeel is m »t solitude, 
but separation of prisoners from each other, and bring- 
ing them under good influences only. 

In considering the Pennsylvania or Separate System, 
as now explained, several questions properly arise. 

1. Shall it be applied before trial '. Here the answer 
is prompt. It is the right of every person whom the 
law presumes innocent, as is the case with all before 
trial, to be kept tree from the touch or contamination 
of those who maybe felons. I well remember the in- 
dignation of the late William Kllery Channing at an 
incident which occurred in our streets, where a stranger 
who had fallen under suspicion, but who proved to be in- 
nocent, was marched from the jail handcuffed, in company 
with a hardened offender. He held it the duty of the 
State to prevent such outrage. The principle of justice 
and humanity which led him to his conclusion in this 
case requires the absolute separation of all prisoners he- 
fore trial. 

2. A more perplexing problem arises with regard to 
convicts for short terms. Here, it would seem, the 
principle of absolute separation ought to prevail 

3. It is a question of greater doubt how to treat 
juvenile offenders. When we observe the admirable 
success of the House of Reformation at South Boston, 
and of the Penal Colony at Mettray, in Prance, both 
conducted on the social principle, we may well hesitate; 

though, on the other hand, the marked success <>f the 

institution of La Roquette, at Paris, under peculiar dif- 

vol. I. 22 



506 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

Acuities, shows that the principle of absolute separation 
may he applied even to this class of offenders. Here 
certainly is a question worthy of consideration. 

4. Shall the Separate System be applied in any case 
to women ? The authority of Mrs. Fry, in England, 
who at first disapproved the system, but at the close 
of her valuable life approved it, even for her own sex, 
also that of Mademoiselle Josephine Mallet, in France, 
who lias declared herself warmly for this system, entitle 
this question to careful attention. 

5. And, lastly, shall the Separate System be applied 
to convicts for long terms ? This is, indeed, the crucial 
question, involving statistics of health and insanity, and 
many other considerations, on which much light is shed 
by the experience of Europe, as well as our own coun- 
try, and also by writings of eminent characters devoted 
to this subject. Here we may well hesitate, and open 
our minds to influences from all quarters. 

The way is now prepared to consider whether our 
Society, in unfolding what may be called the science of 
Prison Discipline, lias treated the Pennsylvania System, 
involving the several questions already stated, with can- 
dor and justice. The question is not whether this sys- 
tem is preferable in all cases to every other, or whether 
there is any other preferable to this, but simply, Has 
our Society been candid and just ? An examination of 
its course furnishes an easy answer. 

It appears that our Society lias tailed to make any 
discrimination with regard to the different classes of 
cases which 1 have set forth; indulging in one constant, 
sullen, undistinguishing, uncompromising opposition to 
the system in all cases, — so much so as to give occasion 



RIVAL BYSTEMS OF PBISOH DISCIPLINE. 507 

for an eminenl foreign writer to say thai it had sworn 
againsl it " war to the knife." Karly in its existence it 
gave its adhesion fco the Auburn Prison, saying, " Eere, 

thru, is exhibited what Europe and America have heen 
lone; waiting to see,' — a prison which ma\ be made a 
mode] for imitation." This adhesion was confirmed by 
the declaration of an officer of our Society, at a public 
anniversary in L837, that the System of Auburn was 
"our system." and still more by a resolution of sim- 
ilar effect offered in L838 by the Treasurer, who now 
opposes, not unnaturally, the efforts to release the Soci- 
ety from the hands he helped to tie. 

I do not found complaint merely on the character of 
advocacy which our Reports have assumed, though it were 
well worthy of inquiry whether this is not improper 
in an association like ours. I go further. I wish to 
state distinctly, that, in the zeal of devotion to Auburn, 
and in the frenzy of hostility to Pennsylvania, we have 
been betrayed into a course which no candid mind can 
hesitate to regret. I will not dwell on language that 
fell from our Secretary at the anniversary of 1845, 
which was in part the occasion of the letter from Pres- 
ident AVavland already read; nor am I able to review 
all our Reports. One will he enough. I confine myself 
to the Eighteenth I h'port, which appeared in L843. 

This Report has already heen the subject of much re- 
mark here and elsewhere. A French writer of authority, 
M. Moreau-Christophe, Inspector-General of Prisons in 
France, has characterized it as "aperversion of truth" ; l 
while an English author has spoken of it in stronger 
term-. "With tin- nature of framing recurring docu- 
ments connected with public institution- we are not un- 
i Bevue P^nitentiare, 1844, p. 421. 



508 IIIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

acquainted," says Mr. Adshead, " and ive believe a more 
flagrant instance of trickery has never come within the 
range of our experience" * I am unwilling to adopt this 
language ; but I cannot forbear terming the Eeport uncan- 
did and unjust. This I shall show ; and I am especially 
moved to do so, since the Treasurer has undertaken to 
vindicate it, and to vouch for the accuracy of its quota- 
tions. I shall consider it under six different heads. 

First. It adduces against the Pennsylvania System 
the failure of experiments in Maine, New York, New 
Jersey, and Virginia, on the principle of absolute solitude 
without labor, which, of course, were entirely inapplica- 
ble in the discussion of a system recognizing labor and 
many other solaces as essential parts of the system. 
Was this candid ? Was it just ? 

Secondly. Here is a more pungent instance, though 
not more objectionable. The Eeport adduces the au- 
thority of Mr. George Combe against " the Pennsylvania 
System." The article or chapter on this point is enti- 
tled, in capitals, " Dr. [Mr.] Combe's Opinion of the 
Pennsylvania System." Under this head are extracts 
from his book of travels in America, where this eminent 
phrenological observer considers the character of this 
system. But will the Society believe that one at least 
of these extracts is garbled, so as not to express his 
true and full opinion of the system ? The Eighteenth 
Report quotes from Combe as follows : — 

" The Auburn system of social labor is better, in my opin- 
ion, than that of Pennsylvania, in so far as it allows of a 
little more stimulus to the social faculties, and dins not 
weaken the nervous system to so great an extent." - 

1 Prisons and Prisoners, p. 128. 

- Eighteenth Annual Report of the Prison Discipline Society, p. 06. 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 509 

The sentence in Combe is as follows: — 

•• The Auburn system of social labor is better, in my "pin- 
ion, than that of Pennsylvania, in so far as it allows of a 
little more Btimulus to the social faculties, and does not 
weaken the nervous system to so great an extent ; but it has 
no superiority in regard to providing efficient means for invig- 
orating and training the moral and intellectual faculties" l 

Thus does our Report, while pretending to give Combe's 
" Opinion of the Pennsylvania System," stop at a semi- 
: "I,, n, and omit the latter branch of a sentence, where 
the opinion is favorable to the system. And yet the 
isnrer vouches for the accuracy of this quotation. 
"1 think I can read English," he -ays, "and 1 think the 
extract from Combe properly made." 

Mr. Eliot here rose and said, " T did not mean to 
vouch for the verbal accuracy of the quotation, but that 
it gave the substance of Mr. Combe's opinion, which 
was against the Pennsylvania System." 

Mr. Sumner. The Treasurer, then, relies upon Mr. 
Combe's authority as adverse to the Pennsylvania Sys- 
tem. 1 hold in my hand a letter from that gentleman, 
dated Edinburgh, March 24, 1847, addressed to the au- 
thor of the Minority Peport to this Society | Dr. BoWE], 
since published as an essay, and which has been charac- 
terized in this debate as an uncompromising plea foT 
thai system. In this letter Mr. Combe says : — 

•• I have read every word of your Prison Essay with atten- 
tion, and do not perceive any difference of principle between 
your views and mine. Your Essay is a special pleading in 
favor of the Pennsylvania System; but I do not object to it 

l Notes on the United State?, VoL I. p. 224, 



510 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF HtlSON DISCIPLINE. 

on this account. Such a pleading was called for in the cir- 
cumstances mentioned in your preface ; it was the thing 
needed to make an impression; and while it states strongly 
and eloquently the advantages of the Separate System, it does 
not conceal, although it does not dwell upon, its defects." 

And yet Mr. Combe is pressed by our Eeport, and now 
by our Treasurer, in opposition to this system ; and the 
work is aided by publishing a truncated sentence, and 
entitling it his opinion. 

Thirdly. "We have already observed the timely oppo- 
sition of "William Eoscoe to the system of solitude with- 
out labor, which promised to prevail extensively in the 
United States. From his publication on this subject, in 
1827, our Eighteenth Eeport, in 1843, draws forth a pas- 
sage, and entitles it, in capitals, " Mr. Eoscoe's Opinion 
of the Pennsylvania System." I will give the whole 
article or chapter. It is as follows. 

" Mr. Roscoe's Opinion of the Pennsylvania System. 

" Mr. Roscoe, of Liverpool, said, before the new Peniten- 
tiary was built, — 

"'At Philadelphia, as lias before been observed, it is in- 
tended to adopt the plan of " solitary confinement in all 
cases," " the duration of the punishment to be fixed," and "the 
whole term of the sentence to be exacted" except in cases where 
it shall be made to appear, to the satisfaction of the govern- 
or, that the party convicted was innocent of the charge. 

"'By the establishment of a general system of solitary 
confinement, a greater number of individuals, imprisoned for 
minor offences, will probably h put to death, by the superin- 
duction of diseases inseparable from such a mode of treat 
at, than will be executed through the whole State, for the 
perpetration of the most atrocious crimes ; with this remark- 



RIVAL BYSTEMfl OF PMSON DISCIPLINE. .'11 

able difference, thai the law has provided for the heinous 
offender a brief, and perhaps an unconscious fate, whilst the 
solitary victim passes through every variety of misery, and 
terminates his days by an accumulation of sufferings which 
human natun can no longer bear.' " * 

With regard to this several things are to 1 bserved. 

1. It sets forth, as Mr. Etoscoe's opinion of the Pennsyl- 
vania System, what, iii fact, was not his opinion of that 
system, but of another system, that of solitude without 
labor, and was written two years before the Pennsyl- 
vania System came into existence, — misapplying his 
opinion, and therefore misrepresent in- it. L'. It with- 
holds or suppresses the date of the extract, and the 
source whence it is drawn. In point of fact, it was writ- 
ten before the new penitentiary was buill ; hut it is 
nevertheless entitled •• Mr. Roscoe's Opinion of the Penn- 
sylvania System," so that the reader unfamiliar with 
the subject would suppose it in reality his opinion of 
that system. 3. It omits an important passage after 
the word " charge," without any asterisks or other mark 
denoting omission, — which, if printed, would have 
shown conclusively that Eoscoe's remarks did not ap- 
ply to the existing Pennsylvania System, hut to a sys- 
tem of absolute solitude, without solace of any kind. 
Is it not proper, then, to say that this passage is gar- 
bled '. And yet the Treasurer's vouchei tor the accu- 
racy of the ^notations extends to this also. 

Fourthly. The opinions of Lafayette receive similar 
treatment to those of Roscoe ; though this case La still 
wA that most discreditable Eighteenth Re- 
port. The article or chapter in which this is done is as 
follows. 

1 Eighteenth Annual Report of the Prison Discipline Society, p. 95. 



512 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PBISON DISCIPLINE. 

" Gen. Lafayette's Opinion of the Pennsylvania System. 

" 'As to Philadelphia,' says the General, in a letter to 
Mi\ Roseoe, ' I had already, on my visit of the last year, 
expressed my regret that the great expenses of the new 
Penitentiary building had been chiefly calculated on the 
plan of solitary confinement. This matter has lately be- 
come an object of discussion ; a copy of your letter, and 
my own observations, have been requested ; and as both 
opinions are actuated by equally honest and good feelings, 
as solitary confinement has never been considered but with 
a view to reformation, I believe our ideas will have their 
weight with men who have been discouraged by late failures 
of success in the reformation plan. It seems to me, two of 
the inconveniences most complained of might be obviated, 
in making use of the solitary cells to separate the prisoners 
at night, and multiplying the rooms of common labor, so as 
to reduce the number of each room to what it was when the 
population was less dense, — an arrangement which would 
enable the managers to keep distinctions among the men to 
be reclaimed, according to the state of their morals, and their 
behavior.' ' In these sentiments,' says Mr. Roseoe, ' I 
have the pleasure most fully to concur; and I hold it to be 
impossible to give a more clear, correct, and impartial de- 
cision on the subject.' 

" ' The people of Pennsylvania think,' said Lafayette, ' that 
the system of solitary confinement is a new idea, a new dis 
covery. Not so; — it is only the revival of the system of 
the Bastile. The State of Pennsylvania, which has given to 
the world an example of humanity, and whose code of phi- 
lanthropy has been quoted and canvassed by all Europe, is 
now about to proclaim to the world the ineflicacy of the 
m, and to revive and restore the cruel code of the most 
barbarous and unenlightened age. I hope my friends of 
Pennsylvania will consider the effect this system had on the 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 613 

poor prisoners of the Baatile. I repaired to the scene,' said 
be, '"ii the second daj of the demolition, and found thai all 
the prisoners bad been deranged by their solitary confine- 
ment, except one. He had been a prisoner twenty fiveyears, 
and was led forth during the height of the tumultuous riot 
of the people, whilst engaged in tearing down the building. 
He Looked around with amazement, for he had seen nobody 
for that space of time, and before eight he was so much 
affected, that he became a confirmed maniac, from winch 
situation he has never [never was] recovered.'" 1 

With regard to this, also, several things arc to lie ob- 
served. 1. It invokes the authority of Lafayette against 
the Pennsylvania System, and quotes as his opinion of 
that system words used with regard to solitude without 
labor, as in the Bastile. In fact, Lafayette never con- 
demned what in 1843 was known as the Pennsylvania 
System, nor ever expressed any opinion impugning it in 
any degree. UN family are at tin's moment anion- its 
warmesl advocates in France. 2. It withholds or sup- 
presses the date of the extract, and the source whence it 
is drawn, and does not in any way disclose to the un- 
informed reader that it was actually written before the 
origin of the Pennsylvania System, 3. The extract 
purports to be from a letter of Lafayette to Roscoe; 
whereas this is true only of the first paragraph. The 
second is from an anonymous Letter from Paris, in the 
•■ National [ntelligencer " of November 17, L826, where 
the writer relates a conversation with Lafayette concern- 
ing the prison then building in Philadelphia, in which it 
was proposed to introduce snlitmlr vithout labor. 4. Af- 
ter the words " uncnlieliti . ," in the very heart 
of this extract, an important passage is omitted, — witli- 

1 Eighteenth Annua] Report of the Prison Discipline Society, pp. 95, 90. 
22* go 



514 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

out asterisks or other mark denoting omission, — which, 
if inserted, would have shown conclusively that La- 
fayette's opinion Mas directed to a system of solitude, 
" without the least employment, and without the use of 
books." May it not be said justly, that the opinions of 
Lafayette are misrepresented and garbled ? 

Fifthly. Here I can only glance at a matter to which 
I alluded on a former occasion. Our Eighteenth Report 
sets forth at length disparaging pictures by Mr. Dickens 
of the Pennsylvania System, while it makes no mention 
of opinions by Captain Hamilton (the accomplished au- 
thor of " Cyril Thornton "), Miss Martineau, Dr. Reed, 
Dr. Matheson, Dr. F. A. Cox, Dr. Hoby, Captain Marry- 
at, Mr. Buckingham, and Mr. Abdy, all of whom have 
expressed themselves with more or less distinctness 
in favor of that system. Nor does it make any allu- 
sion to authoritative opinions by different commission- 
ers from foreign governments: as Crawford, from Eng- 
land, in 18:'>4; Demetz and Blouet, from France, in 1837; 
Pringle, from England, in 1838 ; Julius, from Prussia, 
in 18.")(i ; and Neilson and Mondelet, from the Canadian 
government, in L836, — all of whom reported emphati- 
cally in favor of the Pennsylvania System. Surely it 
was in it candid and just to neglect all that these trav- 
ellers and commissioners had reported, while bringing 
forward the imaginings of Mr. Dickens, and unearthing 
dateless letters of Iloscoe and Lafayette, to employ them 
in a cause for which they were never written. 

Sixthly. Our Eighteenth Report is open to another 
objection, either of gross ignorance or most uncandid 
withholding of information. It employs these wools, 
which appear remarkable when we consider the actual 
facts: " What will be done in other countries is evidently 



RIVAL BYSTEMS ()F PRISON DISCIPLINE 515 

suspended, in a great degree, on the results of more expe- 
rience in regard to the effects of the system." Nothing 
more is said of what had been done in other countries, 
and the reader is left to infer thai nothing had Itch 
done. This was in .May, 1843. Now what, at that time, 
had been done in other countries ? 

In England the inspectors of public prisons had 
math' two or more able and extensive reports in favor 
of the Separate System, where the principles on which 
it is founded are developed with fulness and clearness. 
Parliament had passed a law authorizing the creation 
of a model prison on this system at Pentonville. This 
had been built, and also other prisons on the same sys- 
tem in different parts of the kingdom. 

Mr. DwiGHT. Will the gentleman please to state the 
difference between the prisons at Philadelphia and Pen- 
tonville ? 

Mr. Sumner. With great pleasure, so far as any ex- 
ists. The two are founded on the same principle of 
separation, though that of Pentonville is probably ad- 
ministered with less austerity than that of Philadelphia. 
They may differ in degree, but not in kind. 

I return to a review of what had been done in 1843, 
when I was interrupted. 

In l-'ranee the Mihjeet had undergone most thorough 
discussion, in journals, in pamphlets, among professional 
men, and in official documents. The Government and 
the highest authorities in state and in medicine had 
declared in favor of the Separate System Their con- 
clusions were founded on ample inquiries by commis- 
sions visiting America, England, Scotland, Holland, Bel- 



516 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

giiim, Switzerland, Italy, Germany, Prussia, Spain, and 
even Turkey. In 1836, Count Gasparin, Minister of 
the Interior, wrote a circular informing the prefects of 
the departments that the Government had decided to 
adopl exclusively the Separate System in the maisons 
ffarrdt, or what may be called the county jails. In 1839 
the grave question of the influence of this system on 
health, bodily and mental, was submitted to the highest 
living authority, the Academy of Medicine, who referred 
it to a committee consisting of MM. Pariset, More, Yil- 
lernie, Louis, and Esquirol. Their report, drawn up by 
the last named distinguished authority, expressly de- 
clared that " separate imprisonment by day and night, 
with labor, and conversation with the overseers and in- 
spectors, does not abridge the life of the prisoners, nor 
compromise their reason." This report afterwards re- 
ceived the sanction of the learned body to which it was 
addressed. In 1840, M. K^musat, Minister of the In- 
terior, submitted the project of a law for the building 
of prisons on the principle of separation. This was sus- 
tained by a masterly report from M. cle Tocqueville, dat- 
ed dune L'.~, 1840. It was followed in 1841 by another 
circular from the Home Department, communicating an 
atlas of plans to the departments as their guide in build- 
ing prisons. I hold one of them in my hand now. 

Mr. DwiGHT, looking at the atlas, said, "The cells 
here are on a circumference, whereas in Philadelphia 
they are on radii" 

Mi. SUMNER. In some of the plans the cells are on 
a circumference, and in some on radii. Does this make 
any difference in the system ? 



RIVAL BYBTEMS OP PRISON 1'lscii'i.lNi:. 517 

1 will proceed. In 1843, 17th April, Counl Duchatel, 
in in 'half of the I rovernment, introduced a bill providing 
for the extension of the principle of separation to all 
the maisons de force throughoul Fiance. It was calcu- 
lated that this could not he carried into execution at 
an expense Less than one hundred and sewn millions of 
francs, or nearly twenty millions of dollars. At the same 
time it appeared that the extensive prison La Roquette, 
in Paris, had been for several years in most successful 
operation. Still further, in L843, rl was stated by M. 
de Tocqueville, that, since L838, thirty prisons, contain- 
ing two thousand seven hundred and forty cells on the 
Separate System, had heen built, or were in an advanced 
state of building, in the departments of France. Yet 
nothing of all this is in our Report 

In Poland, it appears that a prison on the Separate 
System was commenced as long ago as 1831, and has 
been in successful operation since 1835, while in L843 
appropriations were made to build three more. Nothing 
of this appears in our Report. 

In Denmark, after an elaborate report from a com- 
mittee, a royal ordinance declared, in 1841, that "all 
houses of detention to be built Pot the accused shall be 
on the Separate System, and that all new constructions 
or reconstructions which the old prisons shall require 
shall be on this system, to prepare for its general adop- 
tion." Again, another ordinance followed, June 25, 1842, 
on the report of a commission thai had visited England, 
directing the building of certain prisons on this system. 
Our Report contains nothing of this. 

Look at Norway. In L838 a commission from this 
region was sent to visit the principal prisons in England, 
Ireland, Belgium, France, Switzerland, Germany, and 



518 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

Denmark. Its report was made in 1841. " Its unani- 
mous and absolute advice was, to demand the introduc- 
tion into the prisons of Norway of the Pennsylvania 
System." Here again our Report is silent. 

In Sweden, the States General declared, in 1841, that 
the Separate System was the most rational, and voted 
1,300,000 florins for the construction of new prisons 
on this system. Already before this time, the pres- 
ent King- of Sweden, then Crown Prince, had secured 
a new honor for his throne by writing a hook on pris- 
ons, where he compared the Auburn and Pennsylvania 
Systems, and gave his preference to the latter. Of this 
our Pieport says not a word. 

Here, as I refer to this royal author, let me pause to 
offer him my tribute of gratitude. His work, originally 
written in Swedish, has been already twice translated 
into German, twice into French, once into Norwegian, 
and once into English. It deserves to be translated 
into every language of the globe. Such words from a 
throne find no parallel in history. All the productions 
from tin- eighteen royal authors of England, and the five 
of Scotland, mentioned in Walpole's Catalogue, could not 
confer the same true honor as these few pages. Not 
the "prettie versse" of Henry the Sixth; not the vol- 
ume of Henry the Eighth, which has secured to his 
royal successors the unchangeable title of "Defender 
of the Faith"; not the " Counterblast to Tobacco," and 
other writings, teeming with pun, pedantry, vanity, 
Scripture, and prerogative, of dames the First; not 
the ballads, songs, rondeaus, and poems of the four 
• lameses of Scotland. A work on "Punishments and 
Prisons" by a king, written in a spirit of simplicity 
and gentleness, with sympathy for the poor, the hum- 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PBISON DISCIPLINE. 519 

ble, the sinful, teachea us to appreciate tonus of gran- 
deur higher than any in the ordinary pursuits of royal 
ambition. Oscar is the bod of Bernadotte, a marshal of 
the French Empire, and elected king of Sweden; but 
— pardon me while I speak what my hear! feels — 
the author of tins little book of humanity and wisdom 
inspires a wanner glow of admiration than the com- 
mander of the centre in the victory of Austerlitz, or of 
the timely succors that hurried the close of the giant 
struggle at Leipzig. He sits on a throne illustrated by 
two of the greatest sovereigns in modern Europe; hut 
his is a truer glory than that of Gustavus Vasa in the 
mines of Dalecarlia, or of Gustavus Adolphus on the 
field of Lutzeu. 

Iu Holland, the penal code established in 1840, as 
the basis of prison discipline, separation by night and 
labor in common by day. "But they were not slow to 
recognize the insufficiency of this," says one of the 
eminent authorities. Wherefore the States General or- 
dered the system of separate imprisonment, as practised 
at Philadelphia, with the modifications which excluded 
solitude, separating the prisoners from each other, and 
securing communication with good people. In the 
States General there was only one voice against this sys- 
tem. Again is our Report silent. 

And Lastly, at Geneva, in Switzerland, a plan of a 
prison on the Separate System was adopted in 1842. I 
have here the atlas containing a full representation of 
this prison in all it- parts. But of this, too, our lieport 
says nothing. 

In view of all these things, is it nol humiliating that 
our Society should have put forth the statement it did 
with regard to "other countries"? Most certainly, if 



520 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF HtlSON DISCIPLINE. 

the authors of the Eighteenth Eeport were ignorant of 
the extensive adoption in Europe of the Pennsylvania 
System, their ignorance was reprehensible, and not to 
be vindicated by the apology of the Secretary, that he 
could not read French. If uncandidly they withheld or 
suppressed this information, as I cannot suppose, they 
are equally reprehensible. 

Such is the Eighteenth Eeport of our Society! And 
yet this document, seamed and botched with error and 
uncandid statement, injuriously affecting the Pennsyl- 
vania System, was sent by our Society, as I have been 
credibly informed, to every member of the Legislature 
of that State. Surely we need not wonder that the 
humane and upright gentlemen connected with the 
administration of prisons there felt that we had done 
them wrong. 

II. 

I now come to the second proposition in the Eeport 
and Eesolutions under consideration ; and here I shall 
be brief. It is proposed that we shall recognize the 
directors of the Eastern Penitentiary of Pennsylvania 
as sincere fellow-laborers in the cause of Prison Disci- 
pline, and shall declare, that, if expressions have ap- 
peared in our Eeports, or been uttered at any of our 
public meetings, which have justly given pain to our 
brethren, our Society sincerely regrets them. Is not 
this a proper and most Christian resolution? "What 
candid or generous mind can hesitate with regard to it, 
particularly after becoming acquainted with the course 
dt' our Society towards those gentlemen and the system 
they have administered ? But here again we encounter 



Kiv.u. BYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 521 

the Treasurer, the Achilles of this debate, according to 
the description of thai martial character by Horace, — 

" Impiger, iracnndos, inexorabilis, acer." 

The Treasurer, with passionate emphasis, objects to any 
expressions of confidence in the gentlemen of Philadel- 
phia. He is not personally acquainted with all of them. 
He is conscientious on the point. He will nol commit 

our tender Society by any such extravagant declaration. 
To be sure, he made no opposition, when our association 
passed a formal vote in its own favor, declaring nothing 
less than that it was "entitled to the thanks of every 
friend of humanity for its successful efforts in the cause 
of Prison Discipline." 1 It was all right for us to praise 
ourselves; but the Treasurer cannot praise the gentle- 
men of Philadelphia. He never objected to any of the 
hard words we have employed with regard to them and 
their system. It is those soft words, turning away wrath, 
which disturb his propriety. 

Then, again, he dislikes what he calls an hypotheti- 
cal apology. He is startled by the if. He cannot say, 
" If I have uttered words which have justly given pain 
to my brother, I sincerely regret it." There is too much 
for him in that if. It is no better than but yet in 
Shakespeare, which was 

•• u a gaoler to bring forth 
Some monstrous malefactor." 

True to its vocation, this little word brings before the 
Treasurer a monstrous proposition, which he cannol 
receive. Xo, — he will have nothing to do with it. 
But his sudden sensitiveness with regard to the course 
of the Society should not prevent us from performing a 
simple duty. 

1 Annual Meeting, May 30, 1637: Twelfth Report. 



522 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

III. 

The third and last proposition involved in the Report 
and Resolutions is, that our Society, by its officers and 
individual members, ought to strive for increased useful- 
ness ; and it is particularly urged upon the Managers to 
enlist the cooperation of individual members. This, too, 
is opposed violently, as if it were not the duty of all to 
seek new opportunities of doing good. The Treasurer, of 
course, is ardent. He does not ask the cooperation of 
others. It is the policy of the Society, he says, to act 
by one mind only. 

Look at our grandiose organization. We have a Pres- 
ident with forty Vice-Presidents, — or, borrowing an 
illustration from Turkey, "a pacha with forty tails." 
Then we have a large body of foreign correspondents, 
whose names we print in capitals, — "fancy men," as 
they have been called, because they are for show, I sup- 
pose, like our Vice-Presidents. Then there are scores 
of Directors, and a Board of Managers. Now I know 
full well, that, of these, very few interest themselves so 
much in our Society as to attend its sessions. At the 
meeting last year for the choice of officers there were 
ten present. We ten chose the whole array of Vice- 
Presidents and all. And then, too, the Secretary po- 
litely furnished us printed tickets bearing their names 
and his own. Certainly, Sir, something should be done 
to mend this matter. We must cease to have so many 
officers, <>r they must participate actively in the duties 
of the Society. 

Look now at our annual income. Notwithstanding 
the special pleading of the Treasurer, I musl insist that 
this is upwards of $3,000, derived partly from interest 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PEISON DISCIPLINE. 523 

on our capital stock of $ 7,000, and the remainder from 
subscriptions obtained through the solicitations of the 
Secretary. 

Mr. DwiGHT. But this is not a permanent income. 
It is derived from the charity of Boston. 

Mr. SUMNEB. And is not the charity of Boston perma- 
nent ? I have stated tacts precisely as they are. Now 
it becomes a society so richly endowed to do much for 
the cause to which it professes devotion. It should 
make itself felt widely, not only in our own State, 
but wherever Prison Discipline claims attention. 

But what docs it accomplish? On looking at its 
journal for the last three years, it appears that the chief 
business of the Managers, who have met some three or 
four times in the year only, has been to vote a salary 
of seventeen hundred dollars to the Secretary, with fuel 
and rent for his office sometimes, and also to vote him a 
vacation of four months in the country during our pleas- 
ant summers. This, certainly, so far as the Managers 
are concerned, is not doing much for Prison Discipline. 
But the Managers are responsible for the Annual lie- 
ports of the Society. I think it may be safely said, 
that, for several years, our Society has done little be- 
sides publishing these Reports. Its annual income and 
the Labors of its official galaxy are all absorbed in these. 
I would not disparage these documents; but, professing, 
as I do, some familiarity with the kind of labor required 
in their preparation, I cannot forbear repeating what I 
have said before, that, if we take our last Report for an 
example, one month would be a large allowance of time 
for its production by any one competent man. But the 



524 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

Treasurer says our Society lias devised a plan for a new 
jail in Boston, which of itself is no inconsiderable la- 
bor, — and the Treasurer praises this plan. My own 
judgment with regard to it is of very little consequence; 
but I have here a letter from Dr. Julius, of Prussia, 
one of the highest living authorities on the subject, — 
to whom the plan has been shown, — who expresses an 
opinion different from that of the Treasurer. 

Certainly, Sir, our Society must do more. It becomes 
us to imitate sister associations in Philadelphia and 
New York, whose incomes are less than ours, and whose 
array of organization is not so imposing, but who, by 
committees and sub-committees, and committees of 
ladies too, make their beneficence practically felt by 
those who are in prison, while by their influence they 
widely affect public opinion. It becomes us also to im- 
itate the Board of Education in our own Commonwealth, 
which not only publishes an Annual Report, but by its 
Secretary makes annual visits to every part of the State, 
and by lectures and speeches, by the glowing pen and 
the living voice, arouses the indifferent and confirms the 
wavering. 1 trust soon to hear of lectures on Prison 
Discipline, and of local societies under our auspices in 
every county of the State. 

Ours is a large and powerful organization, abounding 
in resources of all kinds, plenteously supplied by never- 
failing streams of charity. "We must administer it in 
the spirit of charity, that we may promote the great- 
est good of those who are its objects. The contribu- 
tions of which we are almoners should not run to 
waste. All must join in effort to give them the widest 
influence. All must help place our Society in cordial 
fellowship with other laborers in the same pursuits. 



KIYAI. SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 525 

Lot me ask yon, Mr. President, to unite with your hon- 
ored predecessor [ Rev. Dr. Wayland] in promoting t ! 
worthy objects. Commenci youi new duties by guid- 
ing as in a path where we may find thai universal confi- 
dence now somewhat forfeited, and where the blessings 
of those in prison, who have felt our kindness, maybe 
ours 

I believe T might leave the Report and Resolutions 
here, feeling that they stand on impregnable ground 
But there are two objections, each brought by different 
speakers, which I have reserved to the close : one founded 
on the private character of the Secretary of our Society ; 
the other, on the alleged superiority of the Congregate 
System oveT the Separate System. 

In interposing the private character of the Secretary, 
a new issue is presented, entirely immaterial to the 
question on the adoption of the Resolutions This is 
discerned merely by repeating the grounds of these. 
First, our Society ought to be candid and just ; secondly, 
it should oiler a hand of fellowship to our brethren in 
Philadelphia ; thirdly, it should be more useful. These 
propositions are not answered, when we declare, in elo- 
quent phrase, thai the private character of tin • Secretary 
is good. I, too, give my homage to his private charac- 
ter. I have never failed to render my tribute to Ids 
early merit in founding and organizing this Society; nor 
in this discussion, painful as it has been, and calling for 
severe criticism of matters with which he is intimately 
connected, have T made any impeachment of the mo- 
tives by which his course is controlled It is my ear- 
nest desire, that the Society, under his auspices, may he 
more widely felt, and develop new capacities for useful- 



526 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

The other remaining objection is, that the Congregate 
System is superior to the Separate System, and that the 
acceptance of the Eeport and Eesolntions will he giving 
adhesion to the Litter. This conclusion is not correct. 
Your Committee ask for candor and justice ; they do not 
ask for adhesion to any system. On the contrary, they 
expressly disclaim such desire. But it may well be 
asked — and I allude to this point not because I regard 
it as material to the issue — whether experience does 
conclusively establish the superiority of the Congregate 
System. My learned friend [ Mr. Gray] who first in- 
troduced this topic founds his conclusion mainly on a 
comparison of the prisons at Philadelphia and Charles- 
town, where the statistics are said to show a much lar- 
ger proportion of mortality and insanity in the former 
than in the latter. Admitting that the statistics ad- 
duced are accurate (and I do not propose to question 
them), it is very hasty in my friend to adopt his con- 
clusion with regard to the comparative merits of the 
two systems. In the first place, the limited experience 
of these prisons, or any small number of prisons, may 
be affected by circumstances irrespective of the two sys- 
tems, — as, for instance, their administration, which may 
be more or less defective. And permit me to say, that 
the argument of my friend seems rather to show a de- 
fect in the administration of the system at Philadelphia 
than in the system itself. The system lias but one es- 
sential idea, the absolute separation of prisoners from 
each other. But it is said that this cannot be practi- 
cally carried out, consistently with health of body and 
mind. It may be so. But here the highesl authorities 
have affirmed the opposite. The College of Medicine in 
France, and the Scientific Congress at Padua in 1843, and 



RIVAL BYSTBMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 527 

of Lucca iii 1*11, pronounce it practicable. Bui my 
friend urges, thai each prisoner should be indulged with 
at least two hours nf society daily, ami that this is im- 
practicable. 1 doubl it' so much is requisite. Bu1 if 
this and much more be needed, to secure for our pris- 
ons those influences most conducive to the reformation 
of offenders, will it aol be found \ There are christian 
clergymen who find time to bless with their presence, 
with prayers and texts, the gaudy celebrations of mili- 
tary companies : there are young men who partake of 
these pomps. Cannot as many be found who will visit 
those in prison ? 

In the next place, the conclusion is fallacious, as it is 
founded on a comparison of prisons in different places, 
under the influence of different circumstances of climate 
and situation; whereas, to render the comparison ex- 
act, it should lie between prisons in the same place, and 
under the same circumstances. This I am enabled to 
make. There are now at Geneva two prisons, one on 
the Auburn System, built in 1825, and the other on the 
Pennsylvania System, built in 184:1 M. Ferriere, the 
chaplain of both these prisons, — and therefore, it must 
be supposed, equally conversant with both, — presented 
to the Penitentiary Congress at Frankforl a comparison 
between these t wo, which he states to be in the same lo- 
cality, with a unity of conditions in all respects, except 
what touches the system itself. He gives the prefer- 
ence in every particular to the Pennsylvania prison, ami 
expressly declares that there are always persons in the 
Auburn prison who are insane, while, down to the inv- 
ent time, there have been none in the other prison. 

Lastly, the conclusion of my friend is fallacious, inas- 
much as it is founded on a too narrow induction, closing 



528 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

his eyes to the experience of Europe. There is the 
prison of Warsaw, on the Separate System, which has 
been in operation since 1835. During the twelve years 
since its occupation there have been only two cases 
of mental alienation, one of which declared itself on 
the morning after the arrest, and the other was caused 
by too hasty treatment of the plica. In France, as we 
learn from an address before the Penitentiary Congress, 
there are nineteen prisons on the Separate System, 
which have been occupied since 1843. " The experi- 
ence," it is -said, "is not of long duration, but it is 
sufficient to assure the spirits of the most fearful. The 
most harmonious unanimity prevails in the observations 
of the physicians. All recognize that maladies are less 
frequent, and shorter in duration. It is the same with 
mental alienation, in the period of one to four years to 
which the observations relate. No cause of insanity is 
attributed by the physicians to the Separate System, 
as it is practised in France, witli frequent visits, labor, 
ami an hour at least of exercise in the open air." In 
England there are at this moment thirty prisons on the 
Separate System, with thirty-five hundred cells, which 
are so successful in their influences that upwards of 
three thousand additional cells are to be constructed. 
On the Continent there are many directors of Auburn 
prisons who have become dissatisfied with their opera- 
tion, and openly pronounce in favor of the Pennsyl- 
vania System. I might dwell on the experience of 
Europe till the chimes of midnight sounded in our 
ears; but I forbear. I cannot dismiss this topic, how- 
ever, without alluding to one suggestion, which came 
in such a questionable shape that 1 am at a loss how to 
treat it. 



RIVAL BYBTBMS OF PBISOM DISCIPLINE. 529 

The sentimenl of patriotism is invoked, and we are 
gravely told thai the reference to European authority 
and experience which has occurred in this debate is 
not consistent with a proper regard to our own coun- 
try. It is natural, sir, for as to love our country, and 
to take pride in its institutions. Whatever is done 
among us finds special favor, if it he associated in any 
way with our country. But this sentiment must no], 
become a prejudice. It must not become a malign 
influence to interrupt the course of truth, or interfere 
with questions to which it is alien. The subject now 
before us belongs to science and philanthropy, and 1 
have yet to learn that the prejudices of patriotism have 
any just foothold in these sacred demesnes. Let us 
welcome knowledge, wherever it may be found. Hail 
holy light ! from whatever sun ot star it may pour upon 
the eyes, from whatever country or clime it may pene- 
trate the understanding or the heart I 

Again let me say that our Eeport and Eesolutions 
stand on impregnable grounds. And now, ^\Ir. Presi- 
dent, as I conclude, let me render to you just thanks 
for the impartiality and amenity with which you have 
presided over these debates, and may these high quali- 
ties be reflected in the future course of our Society. Let 
us all unite in efforts for increased usefulness, in har- 
mony with one another, and with kindred associations 
of our own country and of other lands. And if, from 
the collisions of this discussion there have been any 
sparks of unkindly feeling, may they all be quenched 
in the vote which is now to be taken. 



2a 



530 EIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 



NOTE. 

Tiie result of these debates called forth the following 
letter from M. de Tocqueville, of France, addressed to Mr. 
Sumner. 

[translation.] 

M y dear Sir, — I have read in the Daily Advertiser of 
June 1st the account of a meeting of the Boston Prison 
Discipline Society, in which you proposed a resolution, the 
effect of which was to declare that this Society ought not to 
be considered " the pledged advocate " of the Auburn Sys- 
tem, or of any other system, and that it should judge all 
systems without taking sides in advance, and without preju- 
dice. I have since learned, by the same paper, that the 
Society refused to adopt the resolution. This vote has sur- 
prised and pained me. I take a very lively interest in the 
reform of prisons, and I have always cherished a respectful 
attachment for the Society, which has, of its own accord, 
dmic me the honor to make me one of its members, and 
which enjoys so just a reputation in the philanthropic world. 
It is under the influence of these two sentiments that I feel 
.•hi impulse to write to you. 

The vote of which I have spoken will cause, I do not fear 
to say. a painful surprise to almost all those in Europe who 
are devoted to the Prison question. They will interpret it 
a- a solemn determination taken by the Society to make it- 
self the champion of the Auburn System, and the systemat- 
ic adversary of the Separate System. Instead of ajudge, it 
will seem to become a party. 

I need not inform you, that, at the present day. in Europe, 
discussion and experience have, on the contrary, led almost 
all persons of intelligence to adopt the Separate System, and 
to reject the Auburn System. Most of the governments of 



RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PEISON DISI TUNE. 631 

the Old World have declared themselves more or less in this 
way, not hastily, but after serious inquiry and Long debates. 
I will speak only of the two greal free nations of Europe, — 
those which 1 know the lust, and which arc the most worthy 
of being regarded as an authority, wherever questions arc de- 
cided only after discussion before the country, and obedience 
is rendered to public opinion alone,- France and England. 
Among these two nations, I can assure you, the Auburn 
System is almost universally rejected. The greater part of 
those who had previously inclined towards this system have 
completely abandoned it, when they came to discuss it, or to 
see it in operation, and have adopted, wholly or in part, the 
system of Separate Imprisonment. The two governments 
have followed the same tendencies. You know that the 
French government brought forward, a few years since, a law, 
of which separate imprisonment formed the basis. This law 
after a discussion of five weeks, the longest and most thorough 
which has ever taken place in our parliament on any ques- 
tion, was voted by an immense majority. If this same law- 
has not yet been discussed in the Chamber of Peers, the rea- 
son is to be found in circumstances entirely foreign to the 
Penitentiary Question. The Chamber of Peers will take it 
into consideration at the opening of the approaching session ; 
and among the most considerable men in this Chamber, 
the greater pari have already pronounced openly in favor of 

it- principle. As to the press, almost all the journals sns 
tain the system of Separate Imprisonment. The journal 
which had most skilfully and earnestly combated the sys- 
tem has recently declared itself convinced of its excellence. 

This change has been produced, in part, by the experience 
had for many years in a large number of our prisons. In- 
deed, it may lie doubted, whether, when the law shall he 
reported to the Chamber of Peers, there will he found a 
single person to combat its principle. 

In this state of facts and opinions, the vote which a so- 



532 RIVAL SYSTEMS OF PRISON DISCIPLINE. 

ciety so enlightened and celebrated as that of Boston has 
just passed will not be comprehended among us; and I can- 
not, I confess to you, prevent myself from fearing that it 
will be injurious to the high consideration -which the Society 
enjoys on this side of the ocean, or that, at least, it will 
weaken its authority. I should strongly regret this, not 
only from my interest in an association to which I have the 
honor to belong, but also from my interest in humanity, 
whose cause it can so powerfully serve. 

Be pleased to receive, Sir, the assurance of my very dis- 
tinguished consideration. 

ALEXIS DE TOCQUEVILLE, 

Member of the Institute and of the Chamber of Deputies- 

Tocqueville, August 6, 1847. 
Charles Sumner, Esq., Boston. 



THE LATE JOSEPH LEWIS STACKPOLE, ESQ. 

Article in the Boston Daily Advertiser, 
July 23, 1847. 



THE sudden death of Mr. Stackpole has filled a large 
circle of friends with poignant grief. His hale 
and vigorous health, of which a fresh and manly coun- 
tenance and a joyous nature were pleasing tokens, 
seemed to give assurance that he would long be spared 
to them, while the many accomplishments by which his 
life was adorned, and the kindly qualities which grap- 
pled him to their hearts, created attachments now too 
rudely severed. He had stood aloof from public affairs, 
and from those concerns of business by which men 
become prominent before the world. The time thus 
withdrawn from customary pursuits was given to fam- 
ily and friends, and to the cultivation of those elegant 
tastes which add so much to the grace of society. 

He was a graduate of Harvard University in the class 
of 1824, and afterwards studied law. His studies were 
careful and thorough. His attainments were increased 
by travel in Europe. As a member of the Examining 
Committee on Modern Languages at the University, he 
made his excellent knowledge, particularly of French, 
useful to the community. Had his professional studies 
been continued, there is reason to believe, that, in some 
departments, he would have contributed in no humble 
measure to the true fame of his country. An article 






534 THE LATE JOSEPH LEWIS STACKPOLE. 

in the " American Jurist," 1 entitled " Customs and 
Origin of Customary Law," written by Mr. Stackpole 
while still very young, drew the attention of learned 
men in Europe, as much, perhaps, as was ever done by 
any paper of mere jurisprudence from our country. It 
was the subject of comment by the late Professor Park, 
at King's College, in one of his public lectures, who read 
extracts from it to his classes, and it was republished 
in one of the English law journals. This was at a time 
when American productions found little favor from 
the mother country. Story and Kent had not then 
compelled recognition of American law within the pre- 
cincts of "Westminster Hall. This article will be read 
with interest by students of jurisprudence and history, 
while it must always possess peculiar attraction, as 
Hie early offering of ingenuous youth to a stern profes- 
sion ardently espoused. Perhaps nothing ever appeared 
in our country, from one equally young, evincing a finer 
juridical spirit. 

Mr. Stackpole has been removed from strongest fam- 
ily ties, from a large cluster of friends, from enjoyments 
richly spread by competency and taste, and from oppor- 
tunities of usefulness which were before him in ample 
fields, while his sun of life was still high and glowing 
in the heavens, lie has passed away as a shadow. Let 
us clasp and hold fast the memory of his virtues. 

l July, 1830, Vol. IV. pp. 28-68. 



END OF VOLUME I. 

Univer>ity Press, Cambridge : Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co. 

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